Aura of Steel
by RYNO IV
Summary: Huntsmen and Huntresses. They have defended our borders and destroyed the darkness for generations. However, it is not always the tales of heroes that play the biggest parts. Constance Carlisle, pilot of an M7A6-H Light Battle Tank, has never seen herself as someone to be in the spotlight... but after coming across Beacon Academy, she might not have a choice.
1. Author's Note

Right. Here I am. After nearly two years straight of radio silence, I'm back. Not that I was ever popular in the first place, but it's good to be home. Before I get into things, I have to say that RWBY as a whole has been through one hell of a ride. The first season was great; let me make that clear first and foremost. But, like with many things Roosterteeth does, it was unpolished. A gem nonetheless, but not perfect. And then season two! RWBY Volume Two was, in my opinion, one of the best shows I've ever seen! It was fantastic! It had explosions, it had kickass action, _it had mechs!_ And to top it all off, the underlying story has been given an excellent buildup. RWBY has grown so much so fast, that it was dubbed into Japanese! That never happens to an American-made show!

And then, Monty Oum passed away. He was an incredible person. Monty was one of my greatest inspirations. Scratch that, he _is_ one of my greatest inspirations, and he always will be. I never had the fortune of meeting him. I wish I did. Just to be able to talk to him for five minutes, to see how his mind worked, would've been one of the highlights of my life. Monty Oum was one of those incredible people that shined greater than all of us combined, and he was taken from us much too soon.

Monty will always be missed, but he will never be forgotten. It's up to us to take the first step.

And now, here's my first step. This is my story, my own take on Monty's world. It's a concept based around the military of RWBY – what's the purpose of them? If Huntsmen and Huntresses are so effective, why are there soldiers, androids, and mechs? This is just my own spin of things.

I have to be honest, this is going to be an OC-centric story. If that offends you, the back button is right there. Feel free to click it. But, if you are interested, I have one hell of a story planned out. It keeps to the main storyline of RWBY up until the end of Volume Two, where it will branch off into an original storyline I've got cooked up based on things and theories I've noticed throughout the show. It will not be accurate to what the show will be. If it is, it will be purely by accident.

I'm an aspiring writer. I'm not afraid to delve into concepts that might be too much for younger people. Mentions of near-rape, assault, abuse, and brainwashing are going to be in this, as well as blood and possibly character death. This isn't a concrete thing – I've gotten a ways into my storyline, but haven't planned out the end. If this offends you, again, you have a back button.

Now, this story would never have made it off my hard drive if it wasn't for my beta and good friend of mine, Karma Hope. She is one of the best friends I've ever had, and I've never met her. Karma, when you read this, thank you for putting up with my bullshit for so long.

Before we get into the thick of things, I need to get two things out of the way. One, I hate, hate, _hate_ _it _when authors put a disclaimer on every chapter. It interrupts the flow. So, I'm putting my disclaimer here, and only here:

RWBY and its associated concepts belong solely to Roosterteeth. Any original concepts not associated with RWBY belong to me, RYNO IV.

Now, on to my second issue.

Music is a huge part of RWBY. It sets the tone and mood of many of its scenes, and many of us don't even notice it. I have a selection of music that I am associating with different scenes in my story – however, it's tacky to throw up a (GO HERE AND PLAY THIS) right in the middle of a chapter. To counter this, I will put a '*#' by any spot in the chapter where I feel a certain piece of music could be played, with the beginning of the song corresponding to the beginning of the scene, and the actual name and author of the music will be posted on my profile page. If there are multiple pieces of music, the '#' will be replaced by a number. I will make it so the music can be easily looked up on Google, and therefore Youtube. If you don't want to interrupt the story to go looking for pieces of music, feel free to skip this. I'm not going to force you to listen to music – I just feel certain pieces could go with certain scenes.

And so, without any further ado, welcome to Aura of Steel.


	2. Chapter One: Happenstance

Chapter 1

"So," Ozpin began, "why did you come to Beacon?"

Ozpin sat in his office, a room at the top of Beacon Academy where he could keep watch on all that transpired. Truthfully, his office was what housed the gears and weights used to power the massive clock on the tower's face. They still did, though their design had been severely compressed to function as an office. He certainly could have used a different room, one much more appropriate to a man of his position, but he liked the eternal clack-clunking of the gears above his head and the simplicity of how they worked. They were order in an otherwise chaotic world – functional simplicity, combined with structural complexity.

Goodwitch, however, would say that he liked staring at the gears when he should be working.

That certainly wasn't the case now. Sitting on the other side of his desk was a teenage girl in a suit of black piloting armor accentuated with brown highlights, fiddling with the bulky helmet in her hands.

"…No reason," she said evasively. "I was just traveling." Tired fingers combed through her hair, avoiding the long ears atop her head.

Ozpin took a sip from his mug. "Would you like some coffee?" he asked.

With a huff, the girl schooled herself into a ramrod straight posture and averted her eyes from him, never looking higher than his scarf or jacket.

"Yes, sir."

Pouring her a cup, Ozpin looked the girl over, analyzing her. She was short, maybe not as short as Ruby Rose or Weiss Schnee, but she definitely wouldn't stand higher than chest level. She had high cheek bones and a sharp, pointed nose, giving her face an angular appearance. Reddish-brown hair looked like it had been chopped back with a knife, one that had come perilously close to lopping off the fox ears on her head, which were now swiveling back and forth and searching for danger. The girl, a Faunus, was nervous. That much was plain to see, even despite the heavy bangs that waved in front of her eyes.

She had a slight build, scrawny even. Bright blue eyes stared at him warily as he passed her the mug, searching for any sign of deception before snatching it and gulping half of it down in one shot.

"O-oh, wow," she said dreamily. "That's good, the stuff we got back at Atlas tastes like piss."

Her smile lingered for half a second longer before paling. "S-sorry, sir," she mumbled, bowing her head as her ears laid back.

Ozpin chuckled and shook his head. "That's quite alright," he told her. "It does."

The girl smiled – it was barely a twitch of her lips, but it was a smile before she schooled herself again.

Putting his mug aside, Ozpin leaned forward and laced his fingers together in front of his nose. "Now, you must understand that I need to get to the bottom of why you're here and why there's an Armor on my front lawn. First things first… what is your name?"

The girl immediately shrank at his authoritative tone, glancing between him and Goodwitch at his left side before clearing her throat. "U-uh, it's… Constance, b-but I prefer Connie, sir," she said.

"Just Constance?" Ozpin asked, even as Goodwitch ran a search on the name.

"Y-yes, sir." She paused, and said, "May I be honest?"

"You may."

"I've had enough of being called by my last name to last me a lifetime."

Smiling, Ozpin leaned forward. "I understand. You don't have to be so formal, Miss Constance. This is a place of learning, not a military academy."

Connie winced.

"Where are you from?"

Shaking off her discomfort, Connie straightened herself again as she answered, "Atlas, sir. Ironwood Academy."

"Ironwood?" Ozpin questioned, frowning. "You mean to tell me you ran from one of the most prestigious academies on Remnant?"

Nod.

Ozpin leaned back, once again analyzing her weary posture and pained expression. "May I ask why?"

Connie glanced up at him, only to look back down her knees. "I-I…"

"Constance Carlisle."

Connie stared wide-eyed at Glynda, who was still tapping at her scroll – she had tracked down Connie's identity from only her first name and her last location, using the information to her full advantage as she pressed on. "Seventeen years old. Was first enrolled in Ironwood Academy at the age of twelve, and hasn't been home since. Mother and father died three months before her enrollment. Has shown little better than average scores in conventional combat, but has shown exemplary abilities as an Armor pilot. She was rated as one of the finest pilots ever trained, but dropped out three months ago."

Glynda pushed her glasses up her nose. "It's hard enough for a pilot to be called exemplary with so much focus on Hunters, let alone in Ironwood Academy. It's also highly suspicious that someone of your caliber, especially someone about to graduate, left school without a word," she stated.

"Just what is your story?" Ozpin asked, hands steepled in front of his nose

Connie gulped, tense and ready to bolt. "I-I…"

"You can tell us, or you can tell the police why you smuggled stolen military equipment into Vale," Glynda pressed.

At this, fire lit in the girl's eyes as she clenched her fist and shattered the handle of her mug, which then broke when it hit the floor and sloshed coffee all over her boots. "She's _mine,"_ Connie hissed. "_I_ bought her frame, _I_ installed her parts, _I_ oversaw her upgrades, _I _bought her license from_ Ironwood himself."_

She leveled a glare at Glynda, her gaze turning icy-cold. "Don't you _dare_ insinuate that I stole her. _She's. Mine."_

Connie's fury only lasted a second longer before she quailed and leapt to her feet, hands tucked close to her chest defensively. "I-I apologize ma'am, please forgive me!" she cried, and bowed deeply. If Ozpin looked closely, he could see she was trembling.

Glynda, for once, was speechless at the sudden display. "That's… fine, Miss Carlisle. Just… please control your temper; we're only trying to get to the bottom of things."

"Indeed," Ozpin agreed, eyes never leaving Connie's trembling form. "Miss Goodwitch, I believe it would be best if you left for a moment."

Glynda frowned. "Professor Ozpin, that wouldn't be wise."

Ozpin gave her a questioning glance. "How so?"

Leaning forward, Glynda shot the Faunus girl a look before whispering in the headmaster's ear, "She's a complete unknown, Professor. She may be in the White Fang – you know as well as I do that you'd be a perfect target for assassination."

In an even lower voice, she continued, "The Queen may be making her move at this point."

Either she wasn't quiet enough or she underestimated the sensitive hearing all Faunus shared – something that Ozpin doubted – but Connie winced at Glynda's words all the same. Ozpin noticed and gave Glynda a reassuring nod.

"Please, there won't be any danger, either from her," he gave Connie a gentle nod, "or from me. Two people in one room is quite enough of a crowd, wouldn't you say?"

Goodwitch held his gaze a moment longer before she rolled her eyes, clicked her tongue, and stalked out of the office, letting the door slam behind her.

Ozpin shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "Now-"

"What is my punishment, sir?"

At this, Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Still refusing to look up from her bow, Connie continued, "Even if you run a different facility, I still raised my voice to a superior officer. What is my punishment?"

Ozpin was quiet. Outside, he was the very picture of calm, hands folded on his desk as he looked at the girl over his glasses. Inside, however, he was fuming. _Furious._ Not only at the girl's submissive attitude, but at his friend, James Ironwood. Either through bullying or treatment from the teachers, Ozpin could see the girl had been beaten down many times before.

Not to be insensitive, but she reminded him of a dog that had been beaten for drinking water the wrong way. It learned to expect punishment, and so had she.

Ozpin stood, grabbing his cane before walking around his desk. "Don't bow," he said firmly, standing before her.

Connie held the bow a few seconds longer before cautiously straightening herself, keeping her gaze fixed at a button on his coat.

"Look me in the eye."

She gulped, trembling violently as blue eyes met brown for the first time in the conversation.

Ozpin drew in closer, examining her before wiping a finger under her eye. Even as she recoiled with a pained hiss, Ozpin rubbed the concealer between his fingers which had hidden an old, nearly healed black eye. Taking his cane, he gently patted along the girl's legs and frowned every time she hissed or winced. He did the same along her arms and shoulders with the same results. Still, it was when he nudged her side that she yelled in pain, finally taking a step back and away from his cane.

Ozpin was silent as the girl schooled herself once more into her rigid posture, shuddering as her rib complained.

"Never hide it."

Connie blinked, confused, as she hesitantly met Ozpin's watching gaze. "…Sir?"

"That is your punishment," Ozpin said. "Never bow, and never hide your pain - or yourself - again. I know all too well how the Faunus are treated in Atlas, and I apologize for all you've been through up to this point. I can understand your need to run from an environment such as that."

There was a moment where Connie took a breath, ready to say something, but she bit it back and squared her shoulders.

"You're free to speak your mind, Miss Constance."

Despite his reassurances, Connie stayed quiet.

The headmaster leaned back against his desk, taking in the girl's stoic expression. "I can't promise you won't feel pain in the future, but I can offer you something… different, than what you've experienced before. Just answer me this…"

Connie was silent as Ozpin looked at her over his glasses.

"Would you like to join my school?"

Disbelief plastered itself on the girl's face. "…Why?" she asked after some hesitation.

Ozpin smiled. "Because you are a Huntress."

Connie stared straight ahead. "No sir," she disagreed. "I'm just an Armor pilot. My job isn't as important."

"Who do you think keeps the Grimm in front of our Hunters, and not at the sides or rear?" Ozpin asked. "Who defends our towns and cities in the night? Huntsmen and Huntresses may the tip of the sword, but the hilt is just as important."

Connie was silent, pondering her response. Finally, she asked, "Why ask me? I only came across your school by accident."

With a nod, Ozpin walked back around his desk to sit, and steepled his fingers as he looked Connie in the eye. "I won't lie to you and say that I wanted you specifically," he said. "I've been thinking this over for a long time, about how to show my students the different aspects of being a Hunter or a Huntress. That once a job is done, it's not over. Your arrival may not have been planned, but your attendance would be beneficial both to you and to Beacon."

Again, there was silence. Several minutes had gone by when Connie looked up and asked, "Sir, may I be frank?"

"You may."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

At Connie's derisive tone, Ozpin leaned forward and said, "How so?"

Connie leaned forward as well, and while her expression remained neutral, he saw the fire roiling in her eyes as she spat, "Sir, I've seen people beaten over losing a war game. A _game_, sir. Self-entitled _idiots_ with nothing better to do than to slap a Faunus around, who then get away with it because their daddies are friends with General Ironwood. I've seen teachers that would rather join in than stop it. Tell me how that's _beneficial_, sir."

"I would say that it isn't," Ozpin said, his tone grim. His response took Connie off guard, her retort dying before it even left her mouth. Ozpin continued tiredly, "I wouldn't be the first to say that some ways are more flawed than others. I've made more mistakes in my life that most people do in a hundred. But those mistakes taught me what _not_ to do, and what I see before me is a talented young woman who's been wronged many times in her life. I know that talent like hers shouldn't be squandered, even if she's trying to do it to herself."

Connie's head jerked up, only to see Ozpin smiling gently at her.

"Both are equally as foolish," he said.

She didn't respond, instead staring at the helmet in her hands.

"Your views are just as warped as those of your past peers, but I assure you that isn't the case for everyone," Ozpin said. "Give us one month to show you that not everyone is as…"

He paused, trying to think of the most… _politically correct_ word to use.

"Tyrannic?" Connie offered, her tone flat.

"…tyrannic as Ironwood," Ozpin finished.

The clunking of gears filled the silence as Connie thought. She was uncomfortable with the notion that anyone would simply respect her for her skills, but to be giving her an offer to join the most prestigious school in Vale? And by reading a second-hand report, no less? The incredulous side of her took over, and she opened her mouth-

_But what if he can?_

The niggling thought at the back of her mind stopped her from refusing outright. As she thought about it, the thought turned into a demand she couldn't ignore:

_Accept the offer._

It was equally as powerful as her doubt.

Connie sighed. "Fine, sir. But if at the end of the month I'm not convinced, I'm leaving."

Ozpin nodded. "Of course, Miss Constance."

-O-O-O-

SOME HOURS LATER

The registration process, Connie found, was not a simple one. In addition to verifying her Huntress-in-Training license, she also had to give off her weapon licenses and piloting license, something which nearly made her regret ever overhauling her Armor. With so many abnormal parts, she had to run through each and every one of them and how they worked. It was tiring, and she found herself with the thought that gouging out her eyes with a spoon would be more productive.

Still, it was finally over.

"As you know, you'll need to undergo Initiation before you are able to attend classes and put yourself on the student roster," Ms. Goodwitch said, tapping at a scroll as she led Connie through the hallways of Beacon, darkened now that it was past curfew. "You'll be in a spare room on the fifth floor for now, unless we find one better suited or if you wish to move. Furthermore, until such a time that you decide to stay with us, you'll only be allowed to take our general education courses."

Connie nodded, glancing at the nameplates of the teams on the doors – CVFY, PSFN, CRDL, VLKR. Suppressing a shudder at the thought of having to work with all of these people at some point, she focused on the dark hallway ahead of her. With her superior vision she could see the hall continued for quite some time, branching off occasionally. She was pleasantly surprised to find that Beacon was practically a hotel. Clean smelling with fresh paint and thick red carpets, she was almost ashamed to be treading its halls with her booted feet.

Almost.

Finally, Glynda stopped at an unmarked door at the end of the hall, next to a window. Its neighbor was a door for a team called RWBY, while across the hall was for one named JNPR. As much as she hated it, Connie resigned herself to the fact she would have to be working with these people every day.

Still, _anything_ would be better than before.

Glynda turned to Connie, still tapping away at her scroll. "This will be your room, at least for the time being. As you're the only student without a team you'll be bunking alone, but if you find a team you prefer working with, we'll try to make accommodations."

Connie nodded, standing at attention. "Understood, ma'am."

Glynda stared at her for a moment, making the girl uncomfortable. Then, the teacher frowned and leaned in closer. Though the woman intimidated the hell out of her, Connie tried her best to stand her ground and look her in the eye.

"…Let me make one thing clear," Glynda said. "This is an establishment for the best of the best. We do not tolerate anything less than brilliance. _I_ do not tolerate anything less than brilliance. If you perform less of what Professor Ozpin expects of you, I'll escort you out myself."

She pushed her glasses up her nose. "Do I make myself clear?"

Instead of answering, Connie snapped her arm up in a salute. "I won't let you down, ma'am."

Glynda held her gaze before leaning back, nodding. "Very well, then. Tomorrow will be your Initiation, so I suggest that you get some rest. If you succeed you'll be issued your scroll, but just know that you need to be in your… _vehicle_ and arrive at the Beacon Cliffs by the time Initiation begins. Now, if that is all, I'll take my leave."

Without waiting for an answer, she walked around Connie and headed back down the hall. However, she stopped after a few steps.

"Sir and ma'am are fine to use, but I would prefer if you called me Professor Goodwitch," Glynda said before turning the corner. With that, she was gone.

Connie frowned slightly as she muttered, "Yes… Professor Goodwitch."

The feeling startled her, and yet… it felt good. Shaking her head, Connie pushed through the door to her room, revealing it to be a fairly standard affair with four beds - two on either side of the room - with an added kitchenette. The back and right hand walls had windows overlooking the school grounds and the Emerald Forest, respectively, though both were cast in the moon's glow. Still, it was just bright enough that Connie could just make out the outline of her Armor below, parked before the massive statue in front of the school. Connie couldn't help her smile, even as exhaustion nearly sent her to the ground in a heap.

She dropped her duffle where she stood and collapsed in the nearest bed, still clad in her piloting suit, and pulled her knees up to her chin. Within seconds, Constance Carlisle had passed out.


	3. Chapter Two: A New Day

_Hello, hello! It is I! Apologies for the delay without any explanation, but I don't like posting AN's without an actual chapter to present. I'm sticking to a biweekly schedule for now until Karma's life slows down a bit, updating on Wednesdays. After that? It might speed up, it might not. We'll see. Also, for the tank in question, look up M7A6-H on Deviantart. _

_Cheers._

* * *

"This is going to be a problem."

Glynda Goodwitch was not amused as she stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the monstrosity parked before the school steps. It was early in the morning, which meant no students were up and about. She still hadn't finished her morning coffee – she hadn't even changed into her work clothes. It was, in a word, _way_ too early to be bothered by this nonsense.

It was a good thing she was glaring down at the thing from the teacher's lounge on the third floor, the windows closed against the morning chill. Otherwise, she might have been tempted to punt the thing right into Emerald Forest with a glyph.

The door creaked open behind her and in walked Professor Oobleck. By the time he began teaching he was usually operating on overdrive, fueled by the godsend that was caffeine. There was a reason his nickname was 'The Green Whirlwind'. That certainly wasn't the case now, however. Even his hair drooped lethargically as he shuffled to the coffee maker, still clad in his ankle-length night gown as he dumped five sugars into a mug of the blackest coffee they had.

"That's going to give you a heart attack someday, Professor Oobleck," Glynda said, half in jest.

"Uhnnn," he grunted, his eyes bloodshot behind his glasses as he brought the liquid heaven to his lips. It was promptly sloshed up his nose when the door slammed into his back after being thrown open, leaving him choking and sputtering as Professor Port sauntered in with a jovial grin and an energetic bounce in his gut.

With a laugh, he pounded Oobleck on the back – nearly knocking the scrawny man off his feet in the process – and said, "Bart, you should really be more careful! If I were a Beowolf I could have ripped you open in the time it took you to choke!"

"If you were a Beowolf you'd barely be a footnote in history," Oobleck muttered under his breath, wiping himself off with a spare towel. Friend or not, Oobleck could never tolerate Port's… _enthusiasm _without the crutch of coffee.

At Port's voice, Glynda bunched the massive sweater she wore around her shoulders and brought her mug to her lips, praying to whatever god there was for the obnoxious man to not notice her.

"Ah, Professor Goodwitch!"

Glynda cursed the gods.

With a heavy sigh, Goodwitch turned to face the pudgy man. "Good morning, Professor Port," she said with forced civility. It was too early to deal with him.

At least, not before coffee.

Port, ignoring – or not noticing – the barely-hidden glare his associate was giving him, strode over to the window and whistled, a bushy eyebrow shooting up to his hairline. "So _that's_ what caused the commotion yesterday? My, an impressive machine, to be sure!"

"We need somewhere to put it," Glynda snapped, her patience already wearing thin. "I won't have that monstrosity sitting in front of the school."

Port blinked, though it was hard to tell with his heavy eyebrows. "Ah. Then why not use the old armory?"

Glynda shook her head. "No, it's…"

Wait. Glynda's foggy thoughts cleared abruptly as she chewed the idea over. The old armory was located at the rear of the academy, separate from the school itself. It had been built during a time when the Academy was still new and the wary public needed assurance that the superpowered teenagers wouldn't rampage through town with overengineered weaponry. It had since been replaced with the new armory during renovations made years ago, and the old one had lain forgotten.

Given that it was in good shape on the outside and hadn't been opened for a good twenty years, it might be serviceable.

"Actually," Glynda said, giving Port a genuine smile, "that might just work. Thank you, Professor Port."

"Of course, anything for the loveliest woman on campus!" Port said with a wink and a wide smile.

And just like that, any gratitude she held for the man was gone.

-O-O-O-

Ruby found herself lying awake and staring up at the sheet that passed as her bed curtain. She had been awake since _much_ earlier that night, her mind unable to shut down and therefore leaving her to mull over what had happened the day before.

It had been a day like any other, really. They had been attending classes and were in the middle of one of Port's painful lectures when a loud bang was heard outside. In a school filled with Hunters and Huntresses, explosions happened all the time, accidental or otherwise. What made it strange that not only Professor Oobleck raced past the door, but Glynda Goodwitch as well. Ozpin sauntered by only moments later and asked Port to come with him before dismissing the entire class for the rest of the day, with the caveat that none were to go outside.

While she had initially been thrilled to have an impromptu day off, Ruby had a funny feeling about the whole thing. What had the explosion been from? Had a Grimm attacked the school? And why was a school-wide notice sent to their scrolls instructing them not to leave through the front hall? The entire ordeal reeked of strange.

With a sigh, Ruby sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her bed, careful not to make a sound as she dropped to the floor. Thinking that fresh air would do her troubled mind some good, she threw the window open and breathed in the early morning chill. She stood there for several minutes, watching as the sun slowly began to peek over the horizon and blue marched on to banish the night.

Her troubled thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as she stretched and yawned, suddenly feeling tired for the first time all night. Having had her fill of the morning air, she closed the window and prepared to swing herself back up to her bed. With any luck, she could catch a couple hours of sleep before needing to wake her team.

Ruby froze, wide awake once more. "What the…?" she muttered, wondering if she had been seeing things. She was prepared to push it out of her mind for the sake of sleep, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. Her curiosity demanded it.

There was barely a blur as she threw the window open once more and looked down into the courtyard. The statue was there like it always was, but there, in front of it, was the second most amazing sight she had ever seen, though it was second only to the first time she'd used Crescent Rose. Excited and unable to contain her glee, Ruby bounced on her heels and let out a cross between an excited babble and a shriek.

*1

"WHERE'S THE FIRE!?" Yang yelled as she jerked awake suddenly, her thrash sending her tumbling to the floor in a pile of limbs and blankets. Blake flinched awake and leveled a death glare at the bouncing girl, and Weiss scrunched her nose and pressed her palms to her ears.

"Why in the name of all that is good and holy _are you screaming?!"_ Weiss screamed herself.

Ruby, oblivious to her team's pain, babbled unintelligibly and pointed out the window.

Seeing that her partner's insanity wasn't going to end anytime soon, Weiss got up in a huff, spun the girl around by the shoulder and gave her a light slap. "What is your problem?! Are you trying to make us go deaf?!"

Only slightly shaken by the slap, Ruby pointed back out the window and said, "W-Weiss, look! Look out the window! In the courtyard!"

Curiosity piqued, if only to shut the girl up, Weiss looked out the window to see… something strange. It was as long as a flatbed truck, perhaps half again as wide with a flat turret and… was that a cannon? Weiss shook her head, having never seen anything like it. "What in the name of Dust is that?"

"Eh? Okay, I've _gotta _see what's up if even the Ice Queen doesn't know what it is," Yang said, suddenly up on her feet with everything but her eyes obscured in a mound of sheets.

"Ice Queen?"

Ignoring Weiss' confusion, Yang shuffled to the window to see just what had sent her sister into a fangirl's frenzy. Ruby could see her sister frown, tilt her head, open her mouth to speak… and promptly shut it again, the sheets muffling the click of her teeth coming together.

"What the hell is that thing?" Yang asked.

"That, my dear sister Yang," Ruby said with a grin, "is an M7A6-H Light Battle Tank. Made by Carlisle Industries-"

"Wait wait wait," Weiss interrupted. "A tank? As in a rolling hunk of steel?"

Ruby's face scrunched in disgust.

"What? Ew, no! The M7 is a hovertank. It's not just a _tank_ anymore, it's... it's… _beautiful,"_ she gushed. There was a twinkle in her eye as she was completely lost on cloud nine.

Yang sloughed the blankets off, shaking her hair free before waving her hand in front of her unresponsive sister's eyes. "Uh… Ruby?"

Weiss rolled her eyes and gathered her towel from under the bed. "As long as we're up, I might as well get my shower over with. _Do not_ _come in, _or I will punish you_."_

No one even acknowledged her as she strutted into the bathroom. Blake was uncaring, Yang was concerned with her sister, and Ruby was currently giggling like she was back in elementary as she studied the tank through the window.

Still, Yang automatically found herself saying, "C'mon, punish me."

Meanwhile, Blake took one look at Ruby's glazed stare. "She's gone, Yang. Ruby's no longer with us," she said in a defeated tone.

"No!"

Yang leapt forward and wrapped her sister in a bear hug, crushing her as she cried theatrically, "No, I _will not_ lose my baby sister! Don't go, Ruby! Look away from the light!"

Turning blue, Ruby flailed her legs and thumped her free arm against the limb tightening around her throat. "Y-Yang… you're choking…" she gurgled out. Finally, she had the sense to ball a fist and slug the blonde.

As the two began pounding on each other, Blake sighed and bookmarked her page. It seemed she wouldn't get any more reading done… but even as she did so, no one noticed the girl striding out of the school towards the tank.

-O-O-O-

*2

Connie, despite sleeping like one of the dead, woke promptly at five in the morning. Cursing the years spent in what was essentially boot camp, she begrudgingly hauled herself out of bed and peeled her piloting suit off, having long since gotten used to the fact she spent far more time _in_ the damned thing than out of it.

"Damn that school…" she muttered to herself as she pulled baggy sweats and a shirt from her packed duffle. Changing quickly, she crept out the door and carefully shut it behind her; both to avoid waking anyone up and to keep from having to deal with anyone that _did_ wake up. If she could avoid it for a little longer, she would. She barely made a sound as she found her way out, the darkened halls and stairwells hiding nothing thanks to her superior vision, but as she came to the main hall she stopped at the sight of it.

Busts of long-dead heroes stood on pedestals and paintings of battles made the hall into a piece of living history, with new pieces constantly being added. Most of it was lost on Connie, but the pictures were pretty.

She made her way through the main door and towards her tank. As a hovertank, it didn't need treads and instead floated on jets. At the moment, though, it was resting on footpads, one at each corner of the vehicle since its powerful turbines were cold and still. The bulk of the machine came up past her neck, almost to her nose, while the turret towered over her by another two feet. Continuing her inspection, she looked over the four massive vector jets at the rear of the machine and the twelve smaller ones under its side skirts, only satisfied once she had looked over every inch she could reach without her tools.

Still, while she had fallen into an easy rhythm as she looked over her machine, she smiled at the sight of the name painted on the side of the turret: Grendel.

Almost half an hour had passed by the time she was done, and her clothes were now covered with dirt and oil stains from crawling under her machine. Looking up at the sun, she guessed it was now a bit after six. Still wanting some time to herself, she broke off for a run around the school to both get a feel for her surroundings and to work in her morning drills.

To hear the birds chirping as she ran, let alone to feel the grass giving way under her feet, was disconcerting after having been used to walking on concrete for so long. It was strange - unlike the thick smog that hung over Atlas, a kingdom renowned for its technological innovations, the sky in Vytal was clear and fresh… and if she was being completely honest, smelled weird, causing a constant tickle in the back of her throat.

The only thing that hadn't changed was how flat the schools were. While Ironwood Academy was built on unforgiving concrete at the base of a mountain, one could see for miles around from where Beacon sat on a plateau, a sentinel standing watch over the nearby city of Vale. Connie made her way to the edge of the cliffs, prepared for a run that would take her several hours.

It suited her just fine.

-O-O-O-

In the hours following Ruby's discovery of the "dream tank" as she put it, both Team RWBY and Team JNPR were subjected to her spouting off about what seemed like every single part in it, on it, or could be attached to it. This wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't been going on and on about it.

For hours. On end.

Weiss was ready to encase her partner in a block of ice by the end of the first period.

Now it was lunchtime, and Ruby _still_ wouldn't shut up about it. Her voice rivaled Nora's embellished stories, something Ren once thought impossible. She had even drowned out Professor Port's 'lectures,' something which, ironically enough, the man never noticed as he was too engrossed in his own story. Waving a glass of chocolate milk around, unknowingly making Weiss lean away every time it came close to her, Ruby was to be found describing the differences between an L/88 and an SA44 cannon.

Not that anyone was listening. All but Blake and Pyrrha held their heads in misery, though Blake was too absorbed in her book to care and Pyrrha's boundless patience was about to run out.

"…but even though the L/88 is newer and has more punch than the SA44, most pilots use the SA44 because of the revolving cylinder. I mean, that thing can pop off a full load in, like, five seconds flat! Unless it has a Dust cannon, then it's just _boom boom boom!_"

"Full load? Bow chicka bow wow," Yang muttered, idly poking at her lunch.

"Hush, Yang," Blake said, flipping a page. "She'll tire out eventually."

Yang scoffed and whispered, "You've got a book to distract you. Mind if I join in?"

At first Blake was hesitant, blushing slightly before a sly smirk slid across her face. "Of course. If you can handle it."

With a snort, Yang leaned in and read over her partner's shoulder. She barely got a paragraph down before she launched herself away, blushing furiously and screaming, "_Holy hell! _He did _what_ to _what?!"_

As Blake motioned frantically for Yang to calm down, Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose in a futile attempt to relieve her headache. "Will all of you be quiet? It's bad enough that Ruby can't. I'm amazed she hasn't passed out by now."

At this, Ruby frowned indignantly at her partner and waved a forkful of gravy-covered potatoes at her as she said, "Hey, I like guns! I like big machines that go boom! What's wrong with that?"

Sensing an argument, Ren sighed and got to his feet, dragging a happily bouncing Nora along behind to get her out of the crossfire.

"What's wrong with it is when you drag _everyone else_ into your little fantasy world!" Weiss shot back.

"It's not a fantasy world! The M7's sitting right outside the doors!" Ruby shouted.

Jaune and Pyrrha looked hopeless, glancing back and forth between the two warring partners. Oblivious to the conflict were Yang and Blake, both once again reading the… literature, though while Blake was indifferent – having read _Ninjas of Love_ many times – Yang's face became redder and redder.

"But you don't have to remind us _every five minutes!"_

"Well I-"

Just then, the school intercom blared before settling. "_All students please report to the auditorium after lunch. Afternoon classes are hereby cancelled for the day. I repeat…"_

"Okay, yesterday was weird enough," Yang said, having recovered from her foray into her partner's book, "but calling a half-day? There's gotta be something going on that they're not telling us."

Blake nodded, finishing the last bite of her lunch. "Every day has been the same since the start of the semester. Something must've happened yesterday that threw the schedule out."

Grateful for the interruption, Weiss shot to her feet and stalked away from the table. "Whatever. I just hope it's about getting rid of that monstrosity on the front lawn. If I listen to _your sister_ for _one_ _more second_ I'm going to scream," she said, aimed mostly at Yang, though the vitriol in her partner's voice made Ruby cringe as her partner stalked away.

"U-um… was I really being that bad?" Ruby asked hesitantly once Weiss was out of earshot.

Blake eyed Yang, causing the blonde to sigh reluctantly before taking an arm around her sister's shoulders. "Ruby… yes. You were that bad."

Ruby cringed painfully. "Oh boy…"

"Yeah. Uncle Qrow and I have both told you that you need to read the situation better, that there's always a time and place for something-"

"And spouting off on the M7 all day wasn't it," Ruby finished. "Yang, I'm sorry. I just – I just got excited when I saw it, I couldn't help myself."

At this, Yang laughed and ruffled her sister's hair. "I know, Rubes. Just try to keep a better eye on things, alright? That's a leader's job."

With lunch finished, Yang, Blake, and Ruby – now with a determined look on her face after her pep talk – made their way to the auditorium. It hadn't changed from the first day they had stepped into Beacon, large enough to accommodate every student on campus. However, one thing that had changed was the addition of a massive screen mounted on the back wall, allowing everyone to see it. While it was crowded, Ruby managed to find her wayward partner and Team JNPR huddled at the edge of all the students, though she internally cringed when she saw the panicked looks on her friend's faces. She was already apologizing as she strode up to them, Yang and Blake hot on her heels.

"Guys, I'm really sorry for earlier today. I didn't mean to annoy all of you," she said, bowing her head.

A look of pride and a smirk from Yang told them all they needed to know.

"I-I mean," she rambled, "I just got excited because it's a tank and I've never seen a tank before other than in pictures, let alone a hovertank, so I just figured, 'hey, tell everyone else about it', but I didn't realize that I was being annoying until Yang told me so I just wanted to say I'm really, _really_ sorry."

"Y-yeah, it's fine, Ruby," Jaune said, looking uncomfortable as he rubbed his head.

Pyrrha nodded in understanding and smiled. "Of course. You're our friend, Ruby. Though, we would have told you more… tactfully," she finished, giving Yang a stern look.

Yang simply grinned with her fists on her hips.

Weiss, who had been standing off to the side with her arms crossed and glaring at the stage, shook her head as she released a pent-up breath. "I… apologize as well. I-"

"Holy crap. Break out the umbrellas, the world must be coming to an end if she's apologizing," Yang snarked.

"Oh shut up, you!"

Before she could say anything more, Glynda Goodwitch stepped up on the stage and the room fell into silence, all eyes now on her. Pushing her glasses up, Glynda leaned into the microphone. _"Good afternoon, students. As you all are aware, the last two days have been somewhat unusual – however, I would like to dispel any confusion that you might have. Yesterday, we detected an intruder on the grounds and moved to investigate, and what we found was a young woman who knows a way of fighting Grimm that most Hunters never see. The Headmaster believes that this individual will be an important part of your training."_

Hushed whispers echoed through the hall.

Goodwitch cleared her throat, prompting silence once more. "_She will be undergoing Initiation momentarily, with all of you as witnesses. Once the test is over, whether or not she succeeds, your schedule will proceed as normal starting tomorrow. That is all."_

The chatter in the auditorium rose again as soon as Goodwitch stepped off the stage, forcing Ruby to lean towards Weiss and yell, "What were you saying?"

"I was trying to apologize for my behavior! As my partner and our team's leader, you didn't deserve it!" Weiss said, leaning closer still.

The surprised look on Ruby's face caught Weiss off guard. "Oh. Okay!"

With that she smiled and looked back towards the stage. Weiss, however, was dumbfounded.

"You're forgiving me just like that?!" she asked incredulously.

Ruby nodded and looked at her partner out of the corner of her eye. "Just like that!"

On one hand, Weiss couldn't believe her partner's childishness. If she had acted that way in front of her father then she never would've heard the end of it. On the other hand, she couldn't imagine Ruby as anything different. Smiling, though slight enough so she could deny it if anyone saw her, Weiss crossed her arms as she waited with her team for the Initiation to begin.

Meanwhile, Team CRDL shuffled through the doors, though Russel, Sky, and Dove were edging away from their leader. Cardin was irritated, ineffectually holding a hand to his angry black eye. Cursing under his breath, his fury raged at the thought of the filthy _animal_ that gave it to him and he took it out on the hapless students as he walked by, bowling them over with a scowl on his face.

Tank: art/M7A6-H-hover-tank-30198026


	4. Chapter Three: Over the Edge

_What's this? An update so soon? Why RYNO, what's the occasion?_

_I'll tell you. I passed my Network Security exam! I am now fully qualified to make your computer the electronic equivalent of Fort Knox! WOOT! __I couldn't resist until next Wednesday... or this Wednesday, for that matter. So here you are! _

_Anyway, Connie's gun is based on the Mk. 32 Maverick from Destiny. I like the gun design in that game, even if my internet is too crappy to play the damn thing._

* * *

As the morning classes wore on, Connie made her way through the thin forest that had managed to eke its way into existence. She was flushed and sweating as she ran, but she loved the feeling of the ground under her feet. The freedom of moving. She leapt over a fallen log and pushed herself into the final stretch, running headlong down a game trail that would drop her just outside Beacon's rear entrance. Connie broke through the last of the undergrowth and stumbled to a stop, panting heavily as she walked in circles to cool down. As she did she took in the sights of the school's rear courtyard.

While it was nowhere near as grand as the walkway at the front of the school, it had its own fountain with a massive granite sphere that depicted Remnant itself. There was a path looping around it, disappearing under tall, stone arches as it wound its way back to the front. The sound of splashing water was relaxing, and it put Connie at ease as she began a breathing exercise that would allow her body to recover faster. Several minutes passed as she worked through the breathing, gradually calming her heart rate and leaving a pleasant feeling that would surely help during Initiation.

"I was hoping that you'd make your way back here."

Connie's ears twitched and she looked up to see Ozpin sitting on the back steps, his cane by his knee and sipping from a mug of coffee. She was wary, but she finally gave him a nod and said, "Good morning, sir."

Ozpin chuckled. "It's afternoon. You're missing lunch."

Connie wiped the sweat off her brow before standing at attention. "I'm fine, sir."

"Of course you are – that's why you've been living off MREs for god knows how long," he said, and from behind his back he pulled a tantalizing plate of eggs, bacon, and a stack of pancakes into view. Connie's knees weakened at the sight, but she caught herself from lunging forward and snatching it away. Instead, she took several deep breaths to calm herself _again_… which, unfortunately, carried the smell of a late breakfast.

Watching as she struggled not to drool, Ozpin chuckled again and held the plate towards her. "I've already had breakfast, if that's what you're wondering."

Not another word was spoken as she dove for the food, all decorum forgotten as she sat on her haunches and ate with her fingers. Three strips of bacon and half a pancake was gone in the time it took Ozpin to blink, the other half of the pancake hanging from her mouth as the plate balanced precariously on her knees. She moaned, eyes closed in delight before she remembered where she was and looked to see Ozpin staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

With a blush, she slowly tore the remains of the pancake from her mouth and swallowed. "…I haven't had real food in a while," she said lamely, her ears flicking.

Ozpin chuckled. "Of course you haven't. What do they call MREs in Atlas again?"

"…"

"Well?"

"…Meals of Regurgitated Entrails," Connie mumbled.

Silence reigned between the two of them as Connie ate, though she forced herself to eat at a slower pace – instead of inhaling her food, she merely shoveled it in with the fork Ozpin had offered her.

"Are you ready for the Initiation?" Ozpin asked.

Connie nodded and swallowed. "Yes, sir. I've checked her systems over and everything seems to be in order. I can begin at any time."

"Good. Because you start in ten minutes."

It took a moment for Ozpin's words to sink in, but once they did Connie's eyes bulged in surprise. Surprise which quickly turned to horror. With a yelp she shoved the plate back into Ozpin's hands – albeit reluctantly – and tore off into the school, the rear entrance leading her into a secluded atrium before opening up into the main hall. Ozpin, meanwhile, merely chuckled as he plucked an abandoned piece of bacon from the plate, chewed, and washed it down with coffee.

"This will most certainly be an interesting year," he said to himself, languidly getting to his feet to make his way to the Cliffs.

…

Connie sprinted frantically through Beacon's halls and up stairwells, all manners forgotten as she dodged wandering students. Such was her panic that she barely noted their annoyed yells when she bumped into them, something that would have her practically groveling back home. Still, she had the presence of mind to watch their faces to see whether they were curious, indifferent, or affronted that a Faunus was attending Beacon. Luckily the last were few and far between, and they let her be as she dashed up the final staircase to her dorm.

She flung the door open; she barely remembered to slam it shut before throwing off her clothes and running straight into the bathroom. Connie spent barely thirty seconds under the freezing cold torrent of water before racing back out in the nude, not even bothering to dry herself as she picked her undergarments and abandoned piloting suit off the floor.

Connie slipped into the second skin, buckling the flexible armor along the shins and thighs before zipping it up. She tugged at the padding around her neck to ensure it wouldn't slip, and then attached the shoulder pads and pouches to her legs and lower back, where her gear would be stored. Having saved it for last, Connie picked up a sheathed machete and strapped it to her thigh, and a thick-barreled revolver was finally shoved into the holster at the small of her back. In all honesty, they were the only weapons she had if one didn't count the multi-ton tank outside.

Despite her misgivings, wearing the suit and helmet gave her a sense of power and control that she couldn't find anywhere else. Constance Carlisle was forgotten and replaced with Connie, an Armor pilot, the best of her class and the youngest to have ever been enrolled at Ironwood, however forcibly it may have been…

And then she finally noticed that there were five minutes until one o'clock.

Gripped by panic, Connie shoved the helmet over her head – barely taking the time to get her ears into the horn-like protrusions in the top of it – and raced for the door, ignoring the fact that she could barely see through the eyeslits. Running straight into the wall, she cursed under her breath and thumbed a toggle under the elongated chin. The headgear hummed to life and sealed itself to the neck of her suit as cameras flared up where eyes should be, glowing an ominous red behind tinted lenses, and Connie squinted as her Heads-Up Display flickered on and nearly blinded her before she could adjust to it.

Naturally, it continued flickering like an old TV set with a bad signal.

"I need to calibrate it again," Connie muttered, ineffectually hitting the side of her helmet in an attempt to jar it back into working order. Needless to say it didn't work, but it occupied her as she turned a corner and made her way down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was halfway down to the third floor when she heard a group talking, too muffled to hear clearly, and heading her way.

Connie froze, all too aware of the time blinking in the upper right corner of her HUD. At this rate she'd be hard pressed to _get_ to her tank, let alone have it warmed up and running smoothly by the time this 'Initiation' began.

But…

Cursing under her breath again, Connie ran towards the doorway and sprinted up the wall beside it, propelling herself out of view before coming to a stop. Her rubberized boots and gloves hummed before she could fall and she stuck to the wall just above the doorway, out of view from anyone coming into the stairwell. With any luck, they would pass under her and she'd go on her way unnoticed. She'd rather deal with being a minute or two late than having to face anyone just yet.

The voices grew louder, and sure enough they came into the stairwell. There were four guys: one was scrawny, two were of average build, and the fourth was positively massive – probably giving even a few of the muscleheads back in Ironwood a run for their money. The big one looked to be in charge, as the other three kept glancing to him.

"…Absolute bullshit. We get called in for a school-wide meeting – at least let us have the day off and be done with it," the big guy griped. The scrawny one, sporting a Mohawk, shrugged.

"I dunno, maybe it's about that tank out front?" he suggested.

The one with blue hair snorted. "It's probably just target practice."

At this, Connie had to restrain herself from throwing her blade at him.

The leader laughed, raising clenched fists in a show of bravado. "That'd be awesome. It'd be a good workout to be able to rip that thing apart… it wouldn't last long though. It looked like scrap to me… what kind of a name is Grendel, anyway? Isn't that old Mistralan, or something?"

Connie dropped from her perch before another word could be spoken, landing with a thump loud enough to cause that the group to spin around in shock. She smirked beneath her mask at their stunned expressions, taking a ready stance with her right foot forward and her side tilted slightly towards them, fully showcasing her machete and her hand resting on it's pommel.

"Uh, what the hell are you?" the dishwater-haired one asked, his hand moving to where a weapon should be on his belt.

Connie shifted uncomfortably, her anger fading just enough to wonder what the hell she was doing before she let out a breath. It came out in a soft hiss through her helmet's respirator as the red eyes glared at them.

"…The pilot of that, 'scrap,'" she said, looking pointedly to the big one as her helmet modulated her voice deeper. "Retract your insult to my machine."

The big one stared at her, an eyebrow raised. He slowly looked to his left, to Mohawk and Bluehair, then to his right, to Dishwater, before they all burst into full-bellied laughter. Their laughter echoed in the stairwell as he choked out, "Who-who do you think you're talking to? I'm Cardin _Winchester,_ you get it?"

Bluehair chuckled. "A tank? Really? What good is a tank against Grimm?"

"You'd be surprised," Connie said quietly, inwardly fuming. Still, thanks to her helmet, the only outward signs of her anger were her strained voice and clenched fists.

The one named Cardin laughed and came closer. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but- wait…"

Connie laid a subtle hand on her blade.

He frowned and looked closer at her helmet before a sinister grin spread across his face. "You're a Faunus, aren't you? What's an animal doing with hardware like that?"

She flinched at his words.

"_Get up! Get on your feet, fox!"_

"_In any formation, the Faunus units will be deployed ahead of our Hunters to find what the situation is, as well as soften any hostiles."_

"_But… sir, shouldn't our Aura be unlocked? If our Armors get destroyed, how will we defend ourselves?"_

"…_Have you ever heard of the term 'cannon fodder?' The Hunters are the important ones – if things play out like Ironwood expects them to, you'd damn well better take down as many hostiles as possible with you. We need as many Hunters as we can spare, and if your bones distract the enemy, so be it."_

"_It's a good thing you're an animal then. You don't have to make the tough decisions us _humans_ do."_

Emotion gripped Connie's chest as unbidden memories leaked from the dam she'd erected in her mind. They disoriented her with their intensity but one thing was clear – she did _not_ like where this was going. Not at all. All she could focus on was the white-hot pressure that begged her to rip Cardin to shreds, her instincts screaming for blood.

She was roused from her daze when Cardin reached for her and harshly snapped, "Oi, are _all_ your ears deaf? Listen when a human speaks, ani-"

In a flash, Connie grabbed Cardin's wrist and pulled him in while snapping her free hand out in a backhanded strike, socking the bully in the eye. As he reeled back she shoved him for good measure, sending him sprawling into his shocked team's arms and bowling the whole lot of them over. Before they could say anything more, Connie sprinted down the descending stairwell, leaving them all to sputter in rage as she made her escape.

Pure, raw glee filled her when she heard Cardin's echoing scream, "Get back here, you _bitch!"_

She heard thumps and yells as the team gave tried to give chase, still tripping over themselves by the time Connie reached the ground floor. However, now that she was away from them, Connie felt… disappointed. Her first encounter with another person here, and it just had to devolve into that?

"This is just like Ironwood," Connie muttered to herself, alone in the main hall.

Despite her misgivings there was still Initiation, which was supposed to take place at 1:00. To her horror, 1:05 was glaring her in the face, blinking unassumingly in the corner of her HUD.

Connie sprinted through the front doors with a yelp, nearly taking them off their hinges in her haste. Her sheer speed caused the busts to wobble dangerously on their pedestals.

"Emergency warmup, override one-one-seven," she said, speaking into her helmet's integrated microphone as she ran headlong down the steps. At her words, Grendel came to life. A hidden turbine spooled up and a dull blue light flickered within her thrusters. As the vector jets tested their movement, a panel of armor at the nose of the machine lifted up and away, revealing a compact but fully functional cockpit. Connie leapt into the air and flipped, landing in a crouch just behind the cockpit before tucking her arms in and jumping down into the reclined bucket seat.

There was a hiss of hydraulics as the panel slid back into place, leaving her in claustrophobic darkness before Grendel's holographic screens lit up. Connie looked over performance readouts as a robotic voice intoned, "_Weapons online. Sensors online. Reactor online. Life support online. All systems nominal. Please state user identification."_

Connie grabbed a slim hose by her elbow and attached it to the port on the side of her respirator, letting cool, filtered air fill her lungs before stating, "Dann wird unser Panzer ein ehernes Grab."

"_User authorized – Carlisle, Constance. Commencing startup."_

The soft whine of the turbine increased to a hellish screech and the blue glow turned to jets of flame that had the power to lift Grendel off her footpads. Connie gripped the twin control yokes and jerked them to the side, spinning the tank around before launching her forward. Banking as an aircraft would, she steered Grendel around the massive statue before veering off onto the lawns, scorching the grass as she sped to the Cliffs.

-O-O-O-

Ozpin, for one, enjoyed the solitude at the Cliffs. It was peaceful watching the endless green sea of the Emerald Forest sway with the wind. It was high enough that he couldn't even see the hordes of monsters that infested it… most of the time, anyway. While Beacon was virtually impenetrable to the forces of Grimm, there was still that slim chance of a single moment of distraction that had led countless heroes to their death.

Still, as he sipped from his mug, Ozpin felt completely at ease.

Sighing beside him, Glynda checked the time on her scroll. "She's late."

"She'll be here," Ozpin reassured her.

"Professor Ozpin, it's already ten after," Glynda said. "Considering her background, if she was going to be here she would have arrived long before us."

Ozpin smiled. "Not everything is as it seems, Glynda. You know this just as well as I do."

With a sigh, Glynda deactivated her scroll. "Professor, of course I do. But if she can't even make a scheduled meeting on time she has no business-"

"I didn't tell her when it started, Glynda," he said, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"What? Why?"

"To test her. And neither did you, I might add."

Glynda rolled her eyes at his simple response. "Of course you did. And you assured me that _you_ had."

She was stopped from saying anything further when they heard a screaming turbine in the distance.

Ozpin smiled and nodded his head. "And there she is."

Just as he turned around the M7 careened into view, banking hard around a thicket of trees in an attempt to keep from spinning out of control. Blue fire spat from its jets and torched the grass as it righted itself – something which Glynda noted with a scowl – and once it spotted the pair by the cliffs, it turned towards them and accelerated.

It showed no signs of stopping.

"Professor Ozpin," Glynda said warily. "Perhaps we should move."

Ozpin shook his head. "We will be fine."

The monstrosity came closer.

"Professor Ozpin?"

"We'll be fine," Ozpin repeated, his voice tense.

Glynda could see the scratches in its armor.

"Professor Ozpin!"

Ozpin, to his credit, simply grit his teeth.

Just as it seemed like disaster would strike, the tank turned its side towards them and flared all seven of its starboard thrusters, killing off its speed almost instantly and sending shivers of relief down both Glynda's and Ozpin's spines when it stopped not even ten feet away. Still, Glynda had the presence of mind to see the name emblazoned on the side.

"Grendel?" she muttered to herself.

The roar of the M7 died down, turning into a high-pitched whine as it settled to just a few inches off the ground. Now that the ringing in their ears was beginning to go away, the teachers had a chance to collect themselves as a panel of armor lifted away and revealed Connie tucked snuggly into the cockpit.

"I apologize for the delay, Professors," Connie said, her voice amplified. "I was unavoidably detained."

Ozpin took a sip from his coffee, attempting to calm his rattled nerves. "That's quite alright. Are you ready to begin?"

Connie nodded.

"Begin the broadcast, Glynda," he commanded.

Glynda nodded, typing a few last commands before nodding to Ozpin to let him know they were live. Connie, meanwhile, tensed in her seat and glowered at Ozpin.

"Broadcast?" she muttered.

As Glynda began to type once more, Ozpin continued, "Now then, this initiation will not be like any other held at this school, due to your particular skills. It will be broadcast so that the student body will be able to observe your skills as well."

At this, Connie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Why?" she demanded.

He smiled. "Not one of these students have seen combat outside the skillset of a Hunter. Seeing how the other side fights will do well for their own combat strategies."

Though Connie hesitated, she nodded all the same.

Ozpin cleared his throat and turned to Connie, though his voice suggested he was making a speech as he said, "Your coming here was an unusual event, but while it was unplanned, it was also one of the greatest things to happen to this school. Even most veterans are aware of your set of skills, and as Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is our job to know of every possible way to stem the tide."

"As this is an exhibition more than anything else," Glynda interjected, "you will not be undergoing the standard Initiation. Rather, you will make your way to the target area and defend your position. There are ruins at the northern end of the forest where you will find your objective. You will then escort the objective back to the Beacon Cliffs. The Grimm will be attracted to that area, so you can expect heavy opposition. Additionally you will be monitored by our teachers – however, they will not interfere under _any_ circumstances."

Connie nodded.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Ozpin continued. "This is unknown territory. Whether you succeed or fail is up to you. Now, prepare yourself."

With another nod, Connie closed the hatch. "So, just drive off the cliff?" her voice boomed in query.

Ozpin gave a slight nod of his own.

There was a pause before Connie opened the throttle, lifting the M7 off the ground once more as the cockpit hatch shut. Ozpin and Glynda moved to the side to give her a clear run off the cliff, but she simply hovered there, not moving aside from the minor twitch as the tank worked to keep itself in one spot. There was a breath amplified over the loudspeaker, gaining the attention of both the teachers and the students watching in the auditorium.

"Beacon Academy…" she announced, "this is how cannon fodder fights."

With that, the tank rocketed forward and dropped over the edge of the cliff, leaving the pair of teachers to stare after it blankly.

"That was certainly… interesting," Glynda said.

Ozpin hummed in agreement.

Meanwhile, Connie worked her controls with a single-minded intensity, ignoring the pit in her gut as her tank plummeted to the forest floor. She fiddled with her left hand to keep Grendel leveled out and her feet to keep her machine pointed forward even as the wind battered against the machine's hull and threatened to send her into a spin, while the stern thrusters flared constantly in an effort to keep her from scraping against the cliff. With the ground rapidly approaching, Connie hit a switch that overloaded the tank's Dust reactor, letting it burn uninhibited.

The turbines howled angrily as white jets of flame gushed from every open port, rapidly slowing Grendel just before she hit the ground. Still, the M7 kicked up a wall of dust and wobbled before a pocket of air formed under the machine once more.

With a sigh, Connie flicked her 'Overdrive' switch off.

"_Magnetic dampeners online," _Grendel droned. "_No anomalies detected. Dust reactor operating at 83% efficiency."_

The area at the foot of the cliff was bare of trees, giving her a nice, clear view of her immediate area… which still wasn't much. They weren't packed close enough together that she would have to make a path, but she would still have to take her time to keep from damaging Grendel. Her baby could plow through _thin _trees, sure, but without treads to grip the ground it was like trying to cut a ribbon with a pair of sledgehammers – it just didn't work. Still, she grudgingly closed the throttle, reducing the noise as much as possible without scraping Grendel's belly along the ground. Connie would have to be constantly on guard as the tank would now be horrendously slow, and as it was, when she looked at her radar there were intermittent blips closing in.

Though, with all the trees she couldn't be sure. Foliage was notorious for reflecting the pulses used by radar, unanimously called 'ghosting' by Armor pilots the world over.

She urged the tank forward with a sigh, hoping against hope that the Grimm hadn't noticed her dynamic entry.


	5. Chapter Four: Heavy Metal Queen

_Almost forgot about this update, I'm very busy with my current classes. Thank god I took Karma's advice and made a stockpile, otherwise these chapters would be spaced a good month apart. Anyway, as I forgot to put in a soundtrack for the last chapter, I put in five. Listen to them. Or not. Up to you. At any rate, I hope you enjoy my work. From here on out, the chapters are going to get longer - I'm aiming for somewhere between six to eight thousand words per chapter, though that is subject to change as I try to find a place to stop where it feels natural and not worry about word count._

_Anyway, thank you for the responses, guys. I have to be honest, I know this is only the fourth chapter, but I never expected five reviews in the first **two**. Chock it up to being an attention-hungry nerd. _

_Thank you Dgreen20, WolfKieth, and UNSC Inferno for giving my little story a whirl, and everyone else who saw fit to keep an eye out for it by faving. _

_Peace out._

* * *

#1

Ruby was drooling.

Yang wore a shit eating grin.

Blake blinked and tilted her head to the side.

Weiss was outraged.

Jaune was in shock, mouth agape.

Pyrrha was confused, but interested.

Ren was impassive.

And Nora was blowing raspberries.

Why?

No one knew.

All seven of them stared at the massive screen, transfixed by the machine leisurely drifting between the trees and heading deeper into the forest. When they had seen the pilot they were put off by the intimidating helmet – it was hard to believe there was actually a person behind that mask! More than anything, however, her words before dropping off the cliff had been disconcerting. This was even more so for Blake who was still shaken to her core, though she hid it well.

In the case of Ruby however, her excitement pushed aside any uncomfortable thoughts. "Holy crap, did you see that?! It just drove off the cliff!"

"It was impossible to miss," Blake said flatly, masking her discomfort.

"Okay," Yang said, hands on her hips. "I have no idea what happened or how it did it, but that was freaking cool."

Jaune gulped and chuckled nervously. "Um… th-that thing's going to be… _here?_ In Beacon?"

"Of course, you dunce! Ozpin just announced it to the whole bloody school!" Weiss snapped, her eyes glacial, emitting an aura that could freeze hell over. Jaune yelped and dove behind Pyrrha, fearfully peeking over her shoulder at the irate heiress.

"Whoa there, Ice Queen. Crank up the heat a bit," Yang said with a grin.

Weiss looked like she'd been slapped. "What the- Why does everyone keep calling me Ice Queen?!"

"Because you are."

Yang's teasing was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Fuming, Weiss was only barely held back from freezing Yang by Ruby, who had wrapped both arms around her waist. "Weiss, let it go!" she yelled.

"Ugh! Release me this instant! You blaggard!"

It took several moments of Weiss squirming in Ruby's iron grip – Ruby praying that her partner wouldn't kill her – and heckles of people watching them before Weiss calmed down enough that she wouldn't go straight for Myrtenaster. Even still, she crossed her arms angrily, her shoulders hunched as she fumed. "Doesn't anyone else see an issue with this?!" she griped.

At this, Yang, Ruby, and Blake had to tear their gazes from the screen, while only Jaune and Pyrrha spared any attention for her. Though, in Ren's defense, he was too busy looking for a suddenly-wayward Nora.

Pyrrha frowned in confusion. "How so?" she said distractedly.

Weiss huffed, annoyed that she only had partial attention. _"This!" _she snapped, waving a hand at the tank. "This is a school for hunters, not a playground for some backstreet hooligan in an artillery piece! I'm surprised those shells haven't exploded on their own, yet!"

Ruby let out an indignant scoff. "The M7A6 doesn't even use shells, Weiss!" she objected. "It fires concentrated Dust!"

Meanwhile, everyone else watched the tank as it hovered along an old game trail, cameras pivoting, constantly on high alert.

"It doesn't _matter_, Ruby! This is a school to train _Hunters_, not some rabble picked up off the street."

"_I_ was picked up off the street!" Ruby shouted indignantly.

Surprisingly, Weiss' icy glare and voice softened at the hurt in her partner's voice. "_You're_ different, Ruby," she said comfortingly. "You use _Aura._ This… _monstrosity_ just fires a big bullet!"

"I wouldn't be so quick to assume that," Pyrrha said, her tone grave. "Having a big bullet is just as effective in some cases."

Weiss snorted, while Ruby edged towards the veteran and asked, "What do you mean?"

Pyrrha smiled cryptically. "Watch."

-O-O-O-

#2

Connie was tense, her hands gripping the yokes so hard the tough plastic creaked. There was nothing registering on her sensors – no Grimm, no birds, not even a speck of dust. There was nothing on audio either, not even a breath of wind. She felt a presence pressing down on her, choking her from within the protective hull of Grendel as her search became more frantic. She made best speed to the north, but in trying to keep her own presence to a minimum her progress was even slower. Even if it was to just break the tension, she was tempted to open the throttle and rush down the narrow game trail she was on.

Looking at the forest around her through the eyes of her tank, Connie couldn't even imagine that hordes of Grimm infested it. She'd been travelling for a good twenty minutes now, and having come across nothing so far, it was natural that she would be tense. Still, something felt strange – something in the back of her mind screamed that something was wrong.

But there wasn't anything wrong. Despite the silence everything was calm, and the sun shone through the leaves with an ethereal, green light. It was perfect, with no sign of danger.

"Run active scan," Connie said.

A low hum came from within Grendel as her sensors were pushed to the max. Active sonar worked to map a ghost image of the forest, while Aura sensors worked in tandem to find any anomalies. The process took less than a second, and Grendel gave a low, negative bleep.

"_No readings detected,"_ the on-board intoned, the voice having a slight feminine tone.

Connie sighed, hoping it was just her imagination. She urged the tank forward-

A black shadow burst from the trees, bounding straight for Grendel. Connie simply reacted, her right hand twitching to bring the barrel on target before pulling the trigger.

The effect was instantaneous. The blast of supercharged Dust exploded against the thing and sent it flying back into a tree, and if the shot hadn't killed it, being wrapped around the tree trunk backwards did. As it fell to the ground in a lifeless heap, Connie could see that it was a Beowolf.

Or rather, what was left of it. Now that it was dead, the shock of its sudden appearance made her shudder. She needed to work quickly – the explosion would have been heard for miles around.

With Grendel still rocking from the recoil, Connie tapped a button and a keyboard extended from a side panel. She typed in commands, running several higher level scans that she normally didn't use because of the power drain. In this case it was necessary, but she was still concerned when Grendel's screens flickered and an ominous, strained hum emanated from deep within.

Seconds later they finished. "_Warning – multiple contacts detected,"_ Grendel stated. Nearly a dozen blips appeared on her radar as Connie cursed under her breath.

Now she had a choice to make, and she didn't like either option she was presented with. She could keep going at this speed, letting the Grimm think that they hadn't been discovered and make her way to the objective. This would also give any Grimm in the surrounding areas the opportunity to catch up with her and pounce all at once. On the other hand, she could cut loose and get to the objective in record time, and give the Grimm surrounding her an opportunity to attack right now, and give herself some leeway until the main bulk arrived.

"Screw it," Connie muttered, opening the throttle. She forced Grendel to move even before the turbine had a chance to spool up, grinding the tank's belly along the ground before the jets caught and lifted her. The acceleration shoved Connie back in her seat and the trees rushed by at a speed that made it seem like she was in a long, green tunnel.

The furious howls chased after her, urging her to go faster and outrun the black shapes on her heels.

-O-O-O-

"YEAH! Break his legs!" Nora shouted, pumping her fists in excitement from her perch on Ren's shoulders.

Ren, struggling to keep his balance from his partner's antics, sighed. "It was shot, Nora."

Yang snorted. "Big bullets," she said, sniggering.

"Your partner is _so_ juvenile," Weiss said to Blake, holding her pained head.

Blake raised an eyebrow. "So is yours," she shot back.

Weiss smirked. "Touché."

-O-O-O-

Grendel screamed down the trail. Connie could barely control her, her hands barely twitching as her tank slalomed from one side of the trail to the other. If there was one thing she absolutely hated about hovertanks, it was that they were _extremely_ sensitive – with so much power and so little resistance to the ground, it hardly took anything to get moving. When that included simple maneuvering it all but threw precision out the window. Muttering an apology, Connie banked along a slow turn in the path, scraping Grendel's belly against the thick brush.

"_Warning, hostiles detected."_

Apparently her rush was for nothing. The Grimm were catching up.

"Activate point defense."

As she leveled out, a panel on top of the turret lifted. The dome-like piece of armor barely lifted an inch, but it was enough to reveal a pair of gun barrels recessed in the metal. The turret swiveled around to point behind the tank and it twitched as it searched for a target.

It wasn't a moment too soon, as another Beowolf came bounding out the forest on her starboard side. The turret immediately panned and thundered out a pair of shells, peppering the beast with buckshot – while it wasn't enough to kill it, the wall of lead was enough knock it out of the air and leave it howling on the ground.

Connie eased a little more speed out of Grendel. That howling would no doubt attract even more Grimm.

-O-O-O-

Amongst the murmuring that rippled through the auditorium, Weiss found herself standing on her toes in an attempt to get a better view. The monstrosity that her partner was currently gushing over was loud, ridiculous, and impractical… and yet if she was truly honest, mildly entertaining. It still irked her to no end that Ozpin would even _think_ that the pilot of that thing would prove beneficial in any way to their development as Hunters, but it was… attention-grabbing.

In a very, _very_ bad way.

She was tired of trying to peer over some Hunter's shoulder to see, and with a scowl grabbed a spare chair lining the wall. As a second Beowolf leapt from the brush, only to be cut down like the first, Weiss grinned smugly as she stood atop the chair. For an all-too brief moment, she reveled in the feeling of being a head taller than everyone else.

"Pfft. Um, Weiss? What're you – heh heh – doing?"

Ignoring her partner's poorly-hidden chortles, Weiss crossed her arms and settled her weight on one leg, somehow managing to look haughty as she said, "I, Ruby, am being resourceful."

"…So you're standing on a chair?"

"Oh, get up here, you dunce," Weiss snarked, rolling her eyes as she extended a hand to her partner. "It's easier to see."

Ruby grinned and nodded, clambering up to join her partner. Much to Weiss' displeasure, they had to stand uncomfortably close to one another to keep from falling off. It was made worse when Ruby grabbed her arm, pulling her close – and though the heiress knew it was to keep the both of them from toppling off and making a scene, they were making even _more_ of a scene now. The feeling of her partner's side pressing up against hers made her stiffen.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Yang open her mouth-

"Don't you say a word," Weiss hissed, leveling her iciest glare.

Jaune, who had been watching out of the corner of his eye, grimaced. "Oh god, here it comes…"

Yang smirked and planted her fists on her hips. "Geez, I knew you were close, but I didn't know the two of you were attached at the hip, too. Should I give you two the talk? Oh! Or am I gonna be an aunt soon?" she said teasingly.

While Weiss simply glowered, Ruby was mortified, her face turning as bright as her name as she screeched, "YANG!"

-O-O-O-

#3

Grendel was a snapping, snarling beast, lunging into her turns as hot jets of flame blasted from every port, looking very much like an enraged demon of old. The defense turret snapped to the left and then to the right, blasting back Beowolves that dared to get too close. Still, like before, they survived and were back in the chase moments later.

If nothing else, they were persistent.

Connie spared a glance in her headlong dash to her objective, looking to a monitor dedicated to showing a map of the area. According to it, she was only a few minutes away from the ruins. She only hoped she could beat the Grimm back enough to get out, get the package, and get back to the Cliffs. It might have just been her stubbornness or pride… but she did _not _want to fail this.

The sharp, thudding report of the shot cannon reverberated through Grendel's chassis, causing her to glance at the ammunition readout on her left before she cursed. There were only a few shots left in her Close-In Weapon System, valuable shots that she'd need in order to make her way back. Luckily, the reactor could run for days under a normal load, but she wished she could have avoided detection just a little longer.

The situation was taken out of her hands when the game trail opened up into a massive clearing. Hitting a switch, the CIWS retracted and Connie opened the throttle as far as it would go, leaving the Beowolves to snap on open air. Despite her training insisting that she be professional at all times, the danger and the sheer force of being slammed in her seat was exhilarating. She simply couldn't give it up for the sake of pleasing her superiors, even back in Ironwood.

Connie saw something to her left. When she glanced back there was nothing but the ruins of what Ozpin must have been talking about, the remains of what once must have been a magnificent domed rotunda. It had long since decayed into a lone wall and half-collapsed pillars.

Yet, it still held a small sense of awe.

Wait…

Eyes narrowing, Connie zoomed in to the middle of the ruin and reeled back in shock.

"What the _hell?"_

-O-O-O-

"Ugh, Ah'm _bored…._" the hunter groaned, a thick brogue rolling off his tongue as he twirled a long glaive over his head. It was more of a lance, really – its thick shaft certainly counted for one, and the blade at the end added another foot. However, it was harder to explain the purpose of the watermelon-sized block of metal just behind the blade, though the four barrels jutting out of it shed some light as to what it did.

He was Patrick O'Brien, part of Team PSFN and wielder of his prized Gatling Lance. Dressed in a blue armored cardigan and jeans with unruly mud-brown hair, he seemed like he would be more at home in a normal college – however, the three-year veteran of Beacon was perfectly at ease in the Grimm infested forest.

There was no professionalism to be found as he whined, "Why 'kin Ah not just go an' have a lil fun, Nelly? I'll not be long."

By his side was a girl dressed in full armor and helmet, painted red. Unlike her partner's disheveled appearance, she was utterly professional as she glanced around the forest, a massive round shield strapped to her right arm and ready to bash Grimm into nonexistence. A smaller buckler was on her left arm, though it was square and had the ability to unfold into a short sword. Her name was Nina Keller, leader of the team, though she was formally known by her apt nickname.

The Shield.

Nina sighed. "Patrick, for the millionth time, it's Nina. And no, you can't."

"But why not?!"

She sighed again. "Because we aren't here to sightsee. We need to be ready for when that new student arrives."

"_If_ she arrives," Patrick corrected. "Ay, if it turns out that bird an' that fancy lil tank o' hers went arseways, ya bet yer arse I'mma gettin' pissed tonight. My entire mornin', gone!"

"No, you aren't getting 'pissed.' We have a test tomorrow."

Patrick went back to grumbling under his breath. He casually leveled his glaive one-handed at a bush and pulled the trigger, sending a torrent of bullets into it. A shredded Beowolf promptly toppled out of it, looking more like Swiss cheese than the fearsome predator it was.

Nina was about to snap at her idiotic partner about wasting ammo when the tank burst from the trees. It angled towards them and sped up as Patrick grinned and waved the tank down.

"Oi, see?! Ah told ye the birdy would make it!"

Nina rolled her eyes. Moments later, a horde of Grimm burst from the trees behind the tank. The ground trembled and the air filled with inhuman howls that reverberated deep within their souls. It would have struck terror into any normal human.

Then again, Patrick and Nina weren't normal humans.

They simply grinned at each other as they readied their weapons, watching as the tank sped towards them.

-O-O-O-

Connie's surprise at the pair of hunters quickly died and she paled at the readings her radar was giving her. First it was twenty, then forty, eighty… the number of blips soon became too many to count, a mass of red directly behind her.

She steeled her nerves, trying – and failing – to ignore the pit of ice growing in her stomach.

A twist of the wrist jerked Grendel to the side, putting the tank into a powerslide as her starboard thrusters struggled to bring her to a stop. The hunters weren't even perturbed when the machine came to a halt not even five feet away from them, close enough that the heat blasted into their faces.

"Get on, I'll clear a path through," Connie said over the loudspeakers, her voice slightly altered. The hunters stared at Grendel, and looked to each other.

"Ah think we kin handle ourselves, thanks," the one with the glaive called out

"_Alert! Proximity warning!"_

At Grendel's insistent tone Connie began to turn to face the horde, only for one far ahead of the pack to leap and slam into the side of her tank. She yelled as she was smacked around in her seat, actually tearing through the shoulder restraint and smashing her side into the sharp corner of the armrest – a dull crunch brought blinding pain and tears to her eyes, and she struggled to keep her tank upright. It wobbled precariously as the Beowolf howled and vengefully tore its claws into Grendel's armor. It was the first victim that had fallen to her shot cannon, bloodied and eyes glowing with rage as it stood atop the turret.

"Get off my tank!" Connie screamed, enraged and in pain, before activating her CIWS and taking manual control. Now slaved to her turret controls, the little dome panned around and shot the beasts legs out from under it, once more in the face that utterly mutilated its skull, and one last time to blow the broken corpse off Grendel, with the shots firing fast enough that it didn't even have time to yelp. She stopped it before it did any major damage, but that didn't soothe away the cuts that had been gouged into Grendel's armor, showing the delicate circuitry and hydraulics within.

Panting with spent rage, Connie looked to the stunned Hunters. "Fine... kill'em."

Nina watched the tank, but without any way to see the pilot she had no way of gauging their emotions.

"Kill'em, stick their heads on a pike and _flambé_ them," she growled. She didn't notice the pair's confusion at her rather extreme reaction.

Much to the armored girl's horror, Patrick cackled and twirled his Gatling Lance. "Eh, why not? Ah feel like acting a maggot, might be fun!"

Rolling her eyes, Nina addressed the tank and said, "Cover us."

"Yes ma'am."

As the pair strode towards the horde, Connie jabbed in commands that would divert most of the reactor's energy to her cannon, _hopefully_ without blowing her up in the process. Grendel sunk to the ground, hovering on half her power while the charge in her capacitors jumped.

Connie smiled, though it was more of a pained grimace as her side throbbed angrily.

She fired twice in quick succession, blowing back several Grimm that thought they would be smart and flank the hunters. Two more shots went into the throng and sent bloody chunks flying. The hunters jumped into the fray, the spear wielder alternating between slashing Grimm and mowing down any out of his reach with bullets, while the walking fortress of a girl simply ran headlong into the fray and sent the monsters flying, mere bowling pins before her.

Snapping herself out of her awe, Connie fired again and again and again, teeth rattling and side throbbing from the recoil but taking out several Grimm with every shot. Their howls filled the clearing, some with pain and most with fury, but it was all simply chaos. Connie fell into an easy rhythm – left flank, fire, charge the next shot. Right flank, fire, charge the next shot. Rinse and repeat. At first it was easy to keep the Beowolves funneled into the meat grinder that was the hunters, who felled them with hardly a thought. More and more of the beasts began to pour in, making it harder for Connie to keep them from encircling her objectives.

A sharp beep from the radar drew her attention, and with a scowl she noted that the Grimm had smartened up and began circling from the trees. If they rushed in at all sides…

Connie shook her head. "Change of plans."

-O-O-O-

#4

Sweat dripped down Patrick's forehead as he cleaved the upper half of a Beowolf's head from its body. Leaving it to slump to the ground, he ducked under the swipe of another and blocked its snapping teeth with the grip of his lance. He spun and plunged the blade into its gut and pulled the trigger, screaming into the howling beast's face as bullets tore through the soft flesh. Kicking it away, he spun again and bisected one coming from behind as he shouted, "Well, this is a craicin' time, now ain't it!?"

Nina effortlessly batted a Beowolf away with her shield and carved her short, blocky blade through the gut of another. "We must retreat!" she said, bashing in the head of an unlucky wolf.

Patrick grinned. "Aight, one distraction, comin' up!"

He spun his lance before yelling and slammed the butt end of it into the ground, sending a rolling shockwave through the battlefield. Dozens of Beowolves howled as they were launched into the air, leaving the pair suddenly with enough space to breath without a beast trying to bite their heads off. Disoriented, they took a moment to breathe and were about to turn and run back to the tank when it suddenly sped by, cannon firing and blasting a gory path through the Grimm.

The machine banked to a stop and settled on its footpads, letting its vector jets die, confusing the hunters before it emitted a sharp screech.

Cannon glowing, it spat shot after shot of white-hot fury at the lines of Grimm, becoming more of a massive machine gun as it utterly leveled the Beowolves. The cannon swept back and forth, spreading the shots out as much as possible, and while a fair few managed to limp away the majority of the wolves were simply torn apart. The carnage lasted for over half a minute, but when it was finally over, all that remained of the beasts were the massive pools of gore staining the grass and the nauseating stench.

-O-O-O-

"Holy fucking shit," Yang blurted out. Most of the people around her said things similar as Ruby blushed furiously, wondering if it was possible to have a crush on a machine.

-O-O-O-

"_Magnetic dampeners online. Warning, reactor efficiency at 15%."_

Connie sighed, though it was a struggle to breathe through the boiling hot air that now coursed through Grendel. Her systems were struggling – that much was apparent when even her life support was overheating with so much bleeding off her superheated reactor. Even the turbine couldn't get enough air through to cool it. The inside of her suit felt slick, drenched in her own sweat. She wanted nothing more than to pop the hatch and let blessedly cool air fill her lungs.

But she couldn't. Connie ignored her pain and discomfort and spun Grendel to face the hunters, who were still dazed from the brutal display of force. "Get on," she said, "We don't have much time. They'll be back once they realize they've got numbers on their side."

It only took them a moment to scramble on and then Grendel shot into the forest once more. She was back in the green tunnel, slaloming from side to side, except that Connie was struggling to keep the tank under control now that it was weaker and responding slower than before. Cursing when she clipped a tree, Connie eked as much power as she could out of Grendel's ailing reactor in a final mad dash to the Cliffs.

-O-O-O-

Silent during the entire Initiation, Glynda had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything rash. She had been interested with the girl's rather unconventional entry. Hell, she was downright impressed with how she handled herself through the forest, and even more so when she had laid waste to an entire horde. To take out the same number of Grimm herself would've been exhausting, possibly even suicidal.

But now that the tank was coming back with the objective - half of Team PSFN to be exact - she was concerned. The machine showed none of the same power and agility as it did before, reacting late and nearly barreling into trees several times. It was clear that whatever the girl had done to drive back the horde, she was paying the price now.

"Professor Ozpin, this is going too far," Glynda said, looking at data collected from sensors hidden away in the forest. "I realize that we aren't supposed to interfere, but in the pilot's present state I doubt she will be able to defeat the Grimm a second time, in addition to leading them straight here. With the numbers we're detecting they could overwhelm our defenses in an all-out attack."

Ozpin was silent as he drank, staring out over the emerald sea. And then, before Glynda could say anything further, he nodded. "Very well. Scramble the Bullhead pilots."

-O-O-O-

Patrick and Nina were holding on for dear life, trying to keep their grip as the tank banked into its turns. Sure, they could understand the need to hurry, but this speed was suicidal. What made it worse was that it seemed like the pilot was barely in control, narrowly avoiding several disastrous crashes. Nina, who had shifted her massive shield to her back, shot a knowing glance at Patrick.

Patrick rolled his eyes and clambered over the turret from where they were holding on to the rear brush guard, lunging forward to grab the cannon barrel and using it as a handhold all the way to the cockpit. He stomped on the hatch and shouted, "Oi, are ya banjaxed or are ya just acting a maggot, birdy? What's goin' on?!"

Oblivious to his screams, Connie wasn't doing well. A pulsing headache ripped between her ears, and every breath she took of the scorching air only made it worse. But she couldn't disconnect the breathing line, because she knew that the cockpit was hermetically sealed and she would only have enough air for a few minutes. She would prefer _not _to suffocate, even if it meant heat stroke. Shaking off a wave of nausea, she glanced at her radar and saw almost a dozen red blips in coming from behind.

Wait…

What were those blips again?

Connie shook her head, trying to collect her thoughts, but they just wouldn't cooperate. Dazed, she allowed Grendel to creep closer to the trees on her right side. She forgot which way was up, and gripped her pulsing head. A shiver racked her body, causing her feet to twitch and threatened to send Grendel straight into the trees.

_BANG!_

Snapping awake at the pounding on her cockpit hatch, Connie had a split second to react before they all careened into a tree that would surely survive the impact better than they would. She juked to the left, turning Grendel to the side before blasting all her starboard jets. Barely conscious of the fact that she nearly sent both her charges flying, she watched as the tree came closer and closer… before stopping entirely. The reactor that pulsed so powerfully in Grendel's core sputtered and died, leaving the tank to drop to the ground with a heavy boom.

"_Warning, reactor offline. Insufficient power levels detected. Dust depleted."_

Letting out a shaky breath, Connie managed to collect herself as much as she could.

"Oi, are ya a'right?!" she distantly heard through the metal.

She nodded, though no one could see it. "I'm fine," she said shakily, and looked to her radar. "Grimm, left flank."

At her words a Beowolf leapt from the bushes, only to be met with a face-full of bullets when Patrick spun and fired his lance. Nina heard more rustling and jumped from the back of the tank directly into the path of another, knocking the beast aside as her fist slammed into its cheek. The wolf rolled away and got to its feet, snarling and snapping at her, only to yelp when a dull yellow line of Aura trailed from its cheek to her left hand.

Nina grinned as she wrapped the ethereal rope around her fist and spun, sending the yowling beast into another like a kind of warped flail and killing both instantly. She snapped her arm back, throwing her improvised weapon to her feet as several more Grimm howled and leapt from the bushes around them.

"Ye best hurry up, birdy!" Patrick yelled, spinning his lance as he joined his partner. "We're in a right craicin' time, out here!"

-O-O-O-

#5

As the hunters struggled to fend off the new threat, something else was happening at Beacon. While it was true that it was built on top of a mesa, most people had no idea that much of it actually existed _below_ the school, a massive complex designed to hold back the tide of any possible Grimm onslaught before their students were ready. Hidden gun emplacements dotted the cliffs, doors ready to be pulled back or blown off at a moment's notice; however, what Ozpin was most proud of were the three Bullhead hangers secreted away in the pseudo-fortress. The doors were made to look exactly like the cliff face around it, and could swivel out and away at a moment's notice.

This was the base of the Vale Defense Force, or the VDF, and the second line of defense behind the hunters.

Hanger Three was in complete chaos as pilots scrambled to get to their machines. While there were only four to a hanger, it did nothing to lessen the pandemonium as they worked to get in the air within a minute and thirty seconds of the alarm sounding.

These weren't your typical civilian Bullheads, or even the light exploration models with chain guns strapped to their noses. No, these were military machines, with rocket pods under their wings, thick armor, and autocannons that could chew through the boney armor that all Grimm possessed. All angles and flat edges, there were none of the graceful curves that could be found on the civilian models. They were built for one purpose – to kill monsters, Grimm or otherwise.

They were the same machines that tore out of the hangars in a single-minded fury, ready to rain hell on all that threatened humanity and their fellow Armor pilots.

-O-O-O-

Connie snarled as she struggled to bring her tank back online. Overusing her reactor had led to this, she thought grimly. Her so-called 'Overcharge.' By releasing the magnetic dampeners she more than doubled its power output, but at the same time the reactor ate away at itself at an ungodly speed. Raw lighting Dust could be consumed in a matter of seconds, leaving the fuel-starved reactor to collapse on itself.

And in her anger and pain, she had released it for over half a minute.

"Stupid!" she snapped, slamming her fist in the side of the cockpit. It was an amateur mistake that would cost all three of them their lives. She barely had enough power to run her systems, let alone spark the turbines that lifted Grendel off the ground.

Well… not necessarily.

Connie pulled back a hidden lever and cranked it, slowly opening the cockpit hatch. Chaos was the only thing that met her – the armored Huntress was swung around the broken corpse of a Beowolf even as she crushed another against a tree with her shield, while the Hunter with the strange accent was laughing as he hacked, stabbed, and shot torrents of lead at their foes.

However, she could tell they were being pushed back. Poor visibility and surprise attacks from all sides were taking their toll, and she didn't need an Aura counter to tell they were tiring.

Connie disconnected the breathing hose and nearly collapsed in relief when blessedly cool air filled her lungs, leaving her wanting nothing more than to pass out right then and there, but she pushed herself out of her stupor and crawled out of her cockpit.

"What are you doing!?" The Huntress cried, slamming the edge of her shield on the neck of a Beowolf. "It's too dangerous out here!"

Her words were ignored as Connie moved, her mind blank as she drew her revolver and shot a Beowolf as it came from behind the distracted Huntress. The heavy slug punched through its skull armor and out the back in a spray of pulped meat, its cranium no match for the heavy rounds.

The Huntress spun, saw the broken Grimm as it fell, and gave Connie a curt nod in thanks.

Connie nodded back and turned to her tank, crouching down as she looked for the access panel… there!

Located under the lip of the turret she could barely see the segmented panel, and would be all but invisible to those who didn't know about it. But Connie did, and she hurried as she strode over, ducked under the cannon barrel and fingered the panel, pushing it in until it popped and swung out on its own. It protected a small port that, in theory, would go straight to the reactor. In all actuality, it was merely the gas tank, but it had only ever been fed pure, processed Dust that had been ground down into fine sand.

Not entire crystals.

Connie reached into a pouch on her chest and pulled out a small Dust crystal, light blue and crackling with power that she could feel even through the gloves.

"Work. Please work," she pleaded, touching the crystal to her helmet before she opened the port and slipped it in.

There was a dull clank as the Dust fell through the tube… and then silence. Connie waited for the tremor, a pulse as the reactor absorbed the crystal and processed it into back into pure lightning to fuel itself. But there was nothing.

"Dammit, _c'mon!"_ she screamed.

Grendel, her loyal tank, was silent.

Patrick yelled as he was thrown back into a tree, his weapon flying from his hands as a Beowolf tackled him from the side. Nina was sweating as she released her Semblance, letting her flail, now nothing more than a head, drop to the ground as she turtled behind her shield and tried her best to protect her partner. Connie brought her hand cannon up and screamed as she fired, sending four of her five shots through the head of a Beowolf before the cylinder ran dry.

Four Beowolves fell, and eight more took their place. They shuffled from the trees, their lips pulled back in triumphant snarls.

The hunters crawled even closer to one another, seeking each other's comfort.

Connie simply felt cold. Her revolver dropped from her fingers and she waited for the beasts to come.

-O-O-O-

CODEX: M7A6-H Light Battle Tank

Moving forward into the twenty-second century, military analysts found that the age-old design of tanks had begun to lose their usefulness. While the tanks themselves were sturdy, chained tracks were fragile and prone to breaking under stress, in addition to the fact that, over time, Grimm learned were the machines were weakest. They were slow, and unable to field the firepower necessary to make their maintenance worth the cost. In 2108, almost ten years after the project was first commissioned, an up-and-coming design firm called Carlisle Industries put forth their proposal.

The M7A6-H is a twenty five ton tank, just over a third of the weight of the VK-2 that was fielded in 2023. The advent of more efficient dust propulsion circumvented the need for internal combustion engines, reducing the powerplant to a single 50,000 megawatt Dust reactor, which drives a pair of turbines to provide power, propulsion, and charge the main cannon. The weight reduction allowed engineers to further reduce the size of the tank which still maintaining the armor and firepower, something which could not be possible with older generation tanks, and made the concept of a tank manned by a single pilot possible.

Equipped with an SR-44 Dust Mag-Cannon, the M7A6-H has a nearly unlimited ammunition capacity, provided that it can be supplied with Dust when needed and removing the restriction of supply lines. Its fourteen vector jets provide ample maneuvering capability, while its stern thrusters can propel the tank to over one hundred and fifty kilometers per hour over flat ground or water. It's speed, maneuverability, and low profile make the M7A6-H an excellent hit and run machine - however, to save costs, its sensor and communications suite was adopted from the Panzerkampfwagen II "Luchs," restricting the range that the tank and go from allies.

The M7A6-H was created as a working prototype, which shows with its single major flaw – its powerplant. Everything that the pilot does draws power from it, and once the reactor has a null charge the entire tank will shut down. In addition, as reactors were a relatively new technology when put in production, each tank was built around its reactor and it is impossible to replace it without destroying the entire machine. It is thought that there was meant to be an M7A7, but was put into production without the creator's consent. Nevertheless this flaw prevented it from becoming truly remarkable despite its overall success, and only five hundred machines were ever manufactured with most commissioned by the Vacuo military to replace their aging Leichter scout truck. Others have been lost to neglect and poor maintenance – outside of Vacuo, it is rare to see a functional M7A6-H.


	6. Chapter Five: Hammers and Anvils

_I know it's not the 29th, but screw it. What's one day?_

_I actually have a question for you. Starting from here, the chapters are going to get longer, going from anywhere between 5k to 10k words. Do you guys prefer longer chapters or shorter ones? And no, this isn't a half-assed attempt at getting more reviews, definitely not._

_;P_

_Peace out, guys._

* * *

#1

Connie leapt from Grendel, drawing her blade in midair before hacking off the arm of a lunging Beowolf. She sprang off its head as it yeowled and flipped in front of another to slash down its front as she fell, gutting the beast and coating her with red ichor. The slime dripped down her suit as she stood and casually stabbed through the front of the armless one behind her, piercing its heart before it could bring its remaining claws down on her, leaving it to moan in pain at her feet as she stared at the others in the pack. There were twelve in number – not including the pair at her feet – though she was sure there were more hiding in the trees.

"Come," she said.

And they did. A pair snarled as they lunged at her. Connie ducked under the claws of one and hacked at the knee of the other, buckling its legs and sending its slash straight into its ally's neck. She slashed the throat of the second as it stumbled and turned to the next, leaving them both to drown in their own blood.

Ten left.

A Beowolf howled and lunged, forcing Connie to the side to avoid it. She was recovering her balance and couldn't react in time when it spun on its heel and swiped, bowling her over and sent her flying towards a tree. Instead of panicking she flipped in midair, letting her feet slam into the tree instead of her head, absorbing the impact with bent knees. She smirked as her boots and gloves hummed to life, and before the beast could react she half-ran half-crawled up the trunk and disappeared into the branches. The pack was confused, searching for their wayward prey when she dropped onto the shoulders of the one that sent her flying and dug her blade into its skull, killing it.

She rolled away as it dropped to the ground, a puppet with its strings cut.

Nine.

Connie had turned to the next one when she was tackled from the side with all the force of a freight train. She was knocked off balance and the Beowolf snarled in triumph as it slashed its arms at her side – though the armor held up well with to the first slash, a claw managed to tear through on the second, sending splitting pain through the girl's body and drawing a pained yell from her. It didn't get farther than that as she fell back, slashing her blade across its eyes, and left it to scamper back amid pained howls.

Eight and a half.

Gasping, she crawled back as far as she could from the slowly advancing pack, holding a hand to her injured side and stopped only when she hit the side of her dead tank. A glance told her the cut was as bad as it felt and deep enough to show the white of her rib, though she wasn't in any danger of keeling over right then. Then again, it seemed that her luck had cursed her once more, as it was her right side that had been slashed, matching her throbbing left side with its fractured rib. But even so, it wouldn't matter with the Beowolves hungry for her blood. Connie gritted her teeth, hoping that the end would be quick and painless. Or, at the very least, quick.

-O-O-O-

"What do you mean 'don't interfere?!'" Yang screamed, holding the prefect by his jacket. "They could all be dead in the next thirty seconds, and you tell me 'don't interfere?!'"

The auditorium was in an uproar. Several students were aghast, struggling not to lose their lunch at what they were seeing. Others were dismayed that the fun hadn't lasted longer. But most, like Yang, were ready to tear down the doors to go help. Ruby was there alongside her, along with Weiss and Blake. The prefect was shaking in his boots at the sight of the four angry huntresses, but held his ground.

"I-I realize this is difficult-"

"Do you?!" Yang screamed, her eyes flashing red

"-b-but I'm under direct instructions to not let any students leave! I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do!"

Yang glowered and held up her fist. "Oh, yes there is. You can step aside and let us through, or I can crater your face and _then _we'll go through."

The prefect's eyes narrowed. "You can turn and walk away, or I can give you all detention for a month!" he shot back.

Just before Yang was about to punch her way through the guy, Ruby heard a commotion on the screen and turned. "Yang! Look!" she yelled excitedly, a large grin on her face

Most of the hunters heard the loud whine, and when they turned to look their jaws dropped. Yang was no exception, the red in her eyes fading instantly. Blake was completely silent, while Weiss was utterly flabbergasted.

The cavalry had arrived.

-O-O-O-

#2

Connie gritted her teeth against the pain, waiting patiently for the nearest Beowolf to bite her head off when her helmet crackled, the radio coming to life as a voice sputtered, "_-Respond… hammer inbound, please res…"_

The pain was brushed aside at the sound of the familiar code word, and she wearily raised a hand to her throat mic. "Hammer acknowledged. Be advised, anvil is close. Repeat, anvil close," she said, though her voice was strained.

The radio crackled, sputtered, and finally stabilized, the voice on the other end evening out as the signal connected.

"_Repeat last,"_ a man said on the other end.

"Anvil close, minus twenty. Any assistance you can give is appreciated."

"_Acknowledged, anvil close. We've got your signature, paint your targets and we'll bring the rain."_

Connie touched a button on the side of her helmet, linking the camera feeds to Grendel's own systems. She could hear the dull whine of incoming Bullheads, though they were much closer than she thought if they could detect her tank through the trees. The feed sent through the system was processed by Grendel's onboard computer, and it turned into raw targeting data that then streamed directly to the incoming gunships. In turn, their systems lit up and locked on to the nine surviving Beowolves, as well as heat signatures of the ones hidden around them.

"_Good tone, targets acquired. Wild Geese engaging."_

"Good hunting."

As Connie had spoken to the Bullhead pilots, Nina and Patrick had looked on in confusion. Patrick managed to get his hands on his weapon and Nina had gotten her second wind. They were ready to slaughter the rest of the Grimm in the area when the pilot of the tank had begun to speak, seemingly to thin air. Then there was the distinctive whoosh of air of the Bullheads, leaving the pair to look around in confusion.

They were even more confused when the wounded girl looked to them, her helmet's glare freezing them in place as she said, "You two find cover. _Now."_

Before they could even think to, the Bullheads settled overhead, just barely visible through the canopy. The sheer noise from all four aircraft was deafening, but nothing could prepare them for the utter hell that happened next.

Rapid-fire booms reverberated in their chests as bullets rained down, targeting each Beowolf and shredding the beasts before they even had time to move and face the new threat. Connie scowled when the ichor of a hapless Grimm sprayed across her visor, and curled tighter into a ball as bullets thudded around her. Patrick and Nina fared no better, as Nina had forced Patrick to the ground and was crushing him beneath her armor in order to protect him. It worked surprisingly well – the shield on her back deflected several bullets, but Patrick was blue in the face as he struggled for breath. All they could do was watch as bullets sprayed from the heavens, decimating the Grimm that had been ready to end their lives not a moment before.

It didn't end once the last visible Beowolf fell. Rockets screamed out of missile tubes and ripped into the forest around them, and tortured howls echoed as fireballs and shrapnel tore through hide and trees alike. The Bullhead pilots were merciless, not stopping until a hundred foot patch of forest had been cleared away and they had all but vaporized the pack that had been hounding them, leaving nothing but burning, fallen trees and piles of greasy somethings that may or may not have been breathing a minute before.

Connie shook her head, her ears ringing from the assault.

"_This is Goose One to unknown Armor pilot. You alive down there?"_

Coughing, Connie sat up and winced as her side screamed at her. "P-pilot to Goose One. Call sign is Grendel. We're still alive."

"_Glad to hear your voice, Grendel. You're the newbie from yesterday, right?"_

"A-affirmative."

"_It'll be good to see one of us show these hunters what _we _can do. We'll rearm and escort you in."_

Connie nodded as she watched the flight of Bullheads rocket away towards Beacon, even though she knew the pilots couldn't see it. A pair of groans could be heard from the single standing tree in the middle of the destruction, where Nina and Patrick were trying to extricate themselves from the armored girl's flying tackle. Granted, the tree was missing half its branches and some parts were on fire, but they weren't dead. That counted for something, right?

If nothing else, she could see the Beacon Cliffs with the trees cleared around them. To her frustration they were only a few minutes way.

-O-O-O-

"That," Patrick groaned, throwing his partner off him, "was fuckin' banjaxed. Let's never, ever, _ever_ fuckin' do that shite again."

He grunted when Nina half-heartedly slapped the back of his head. "Watch your language," she groaned, glancing at her dented shield with distaste. With a click of her tongue she unstrapped it from her arm, leaving it to drop unceremoniously to the ground.

A pained grunt drew the Huntress's eye. Connie was holding a hand to her bleeding side and struggling to get to her feet, leaning heavily against her tank, and though Nina couldn't see the girl's face she could tell she was in a lot of pain. With a grunt of her own, Nina staggered to her feet, leaving Patrick to sputter in indignation as she limped to the Armor pilot. She grabbed the girl's arm, the seemingly uninjured side, though she still yelped in pain.

"If you're going to stand, at least let me help," Nina said, looking into the red glow of her 'eyes'.

"… Just get me to my cockpit," she said, her voice strained and weak.

Nina sighed, but helped the girl with her slow progress, her arm over her shoulder and supporting her weight by gripping the back of her belt. "At least take your helmet off, we're out of danger for the moment."

"Speak fer yerself!" Patrick yelled, watching the treeline. "I'm the only one good fer combat at the moment!"

"At least you're good for something," Nina muttered.

"What was that?!"

"Nothing, you Vacuan psycho! Watch the treeline!"

Patrick grumbled under his breath but hefted his Gatling Lance and watched the edge of the clearing around them.

The girl chuckled at the two of them – their banter was funny.

"What's funny?" Nina asked, helping the girl to the front of the tank.

The girl grunted as she waved off the knight and reached into the cockpit, opening a panel as she said, "Nothing."

Nina couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Wind whistled through the newly-made clearing as the girl pulled a beige sack from the tank. Nina looked on curiously as she leaned heavily against her machine and unceremoniously dumped the contents out, hands shaking as she grabbed a syringe of glowing, pale blue liquid. The knight's eyes widened as she watched the girl prep the syringe and aim it at her side, just below her left breast.

"That's water Dust!" Nina said, halting the girl from plunging it into her body. "Only the best hospitals keep it stored on hand, how did you get it?"

The girl jabbed the syringe directly into her heart and pressed the plunger, shivers racking her body as she emptied all of it. "I stole it," she said breathlessly, tossing the now-useless needle aside.

Nina blinked. "Wait… you… what?"

The girl grunted as the Dust began to work its magic. Her skin glowed at the cut as tiny motes of light played along the injured flesh of her side and knitted it back together, as well as healed the fractured rib she managed to get while slaloming around. She gritted her teeth, the pain working itself out as her skin reformed, though it was disturbing to feel her rib shifting and settling back into place beneath her skin.

After several seconds the lights faded, and she let out a heavy sigh as she slumped against her machine. "I… stole it…" she gasped, her legs shaking from trying to keep her upright.

Nina leapt in again, throwing the girl's arm over her shoulders as she said, "You do realize how illegal that is, don't you? If you took it from a hospital, I have to report you."

The girl snorted. "Hospital? Where I got it from they were giving it _to_ the hospitals, and not from any goodness of the heart either. They wouldn't… miss it…"

A cold pit formed in Nina's stomach when the girl trailed off, and not a moment later she slumped entirely, becoming nothing more than dead weight.

"Shit. Patrick! She passed out!" Nina yelled, setting the girl on the ground.

Patrick cursed foreign obscenities under his breath as he loped over and plunged his weapon into the ground before getting to his knee. "What kin I do, Nellie?"

"It's Nina. Find … ugh, find something to get this helmet off, I need to check her breathing."

"Could it be the birdy just, I don't know, passed out from bein' knackered?" Patrick asked, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

He recoiled at the fiery glare his partner gave him. "I would believe that if she hadn't just injected herself with water Dust not even ten seconds ago," she snarled.

"Wait, what?! She stuck herself with Dust?!"

Nina examined the seam where the helmet met the suit. "Yes. I don't know if she's unconscious or going into shock, but I need get this damned thing off!"

Her hands scrabbled along the seam, and she was ready to just tear it off when her thumb hit a button under the chin and the material around the neck loosened and fell away with a hiss of escaping gas. Nina jerked her hand away as if stung, but immediately leapt back in and all but threw the headgear away. The girl was pale to be sure, but her breathing was fine, and after Nina stuck a pair of fingers under her jaw she found that her pulse was steady and strong.

Nina fell back with a sigh and tugged her own helmet off. "She's fine, just unconscious. It was probably from the strain of her body healing so suddenly," she said, running a hand through her matted hair.

"What the-!? Oh, fuck a duck!" Patrick shouted, staring dumbstruck at the girl.

With an irritated growl, Nina was prepared to give her partner a piece of her mind when he pointed at the girl – at her head, to be exact. Nina was shocked to realize that she had a pair of long fox ears, something she'd missed in her panic, and suddenly the horns in the helmet made a startling amount of sense. She didn't know what she felt right then – respect, or maybe even camaraderie. She pushed it out of her mind as she carefully leaned the girl up against her tank and let her head fall to her shoulder.

Nina sat back once she was done, expressionless as she grunted, "Huh."

"Huh?! That's all ye got ta say?! _Huh?!_ The Faunus could've killed us!" Patrick yelled indignantly.

Unencumbered by her armor, Nina was up in a flash and got within an inch of her partner's face. "_What?" _she snarled. "This _Faunus_ got us out of that back there. Initiation or not, you know just as well as I do that we wouldn't have been able to break away from that mess. Like it or not, you owe her your _life. _Show her some respect._"_

He pushed her away. "Bollox that shite! Didn't ye saw that back there?! That machine leveled an entire horde! Whoever had the bright idea ta give her that thing had ta be knackered in the head! _You _talked me into participatin' in this Initiation for her, Nellie! I wouldn't have been caught _dead_ doin' this if I'd known that _that,_"he motioned to the girl, "was that pilot of _that."_

Patrick waved his hand at the dead tank.

"Why? Because she's a Faunus?" Nina murmured.

"Yes."

"I knew you had a problem with Faunus, but I didn't know you were this pathetic," she said, turning from Patrick as she sat next to the girl. "Go back to Beacon."

To his credit, Patrick was concerned about leaving his partner behind. "Nellie –"

"_Go. Back. To Beacon,"_ she hissed, leaving no room for argument. Patrick stared at her before scoffing and turning away, ripping his Lance out of the ground as he strode off.

Nina snorted and waited alongside the Faunus girl. It took another twenty dull minutes of watching Beowolf remains cremate before the Bullheads came back. One landed and a team of medics rushed out to them. They were quick and efficient, pulling the unconscious Faunus into the Bullhead before examining her. Nina herself was ushered onto it before she even realized what was happening. They were back in the air as another swooped down and hovered over the dead tank, waiting as a team of operatives rappelled down to recover it.

Before she could watch, the Bullhead turned away and sped back to Beacon, where the infirmary and answers awaited them.

Hopefully.

-O-O-O-

"Weiss! Wait! Come back!"

The heiress was fuming, all but shoving people aside as she made her way back to their dorm room. Several students stopped to stare, but when they were met with her murderous, glacial fury they immediately turned and hurried past her. She stopped only once they got to their dorm, only then stopping long enough for Ruby to grab her partner by the shoulder.

"Weiss! Calm down! What's with you?" Ruby asked, spinning Weiss to face her. She immediately regretted it when the girl shoved her away.

"Hey! Watch it, Ice Queen!" Yang shouted, who was hot on her sister's heels and came in just in time to see Weiss's abuse.

Weiss held back a growl as she turned away, clenching and unclenching her fists as she struggled to contain her anger.

"Do none of you see an issue with this?" she hissed.

Blake, who had hung back and watched as her teammate imploded, narrowed her eyes. "I think the only one with an issue is you," she said blandly.

"I have a _right_ to have an issue with it!" Weiss shot back. "That was _barbaric._ At least Huntsmen and Huntresses face their enemy head-on! They don't cower in hunks of steel and level half a forest just to complete a mission! A _fake_ one at that!"

"Is this because of the tank, or is it because she's a Faunus?"

"Yes."

Blake's bow twitched and she tilted her head to the side. "Which one, Weiss?" she asked again, her eyes narrowing.

Ruby shifted closer to her sister, who in turn wrapped her arms tighter around her comfortingly. "This doesn't look good," Yang muttered.

"Both!" Weiss snapped. "That's military grade equipment, with military grade Dust! Whoever had the bright idea to arm a Faunus with a weapon of that caliber had to be the biggest _fool_ on the face of Remnant."

Blake's lip curled, baring unusually sharp fangs_._

Before anyone could say anything further, Ruby cleared her throat, causing the two of them to glare at her.

"What?" they growled.

Ruby swallowed nervously. "U-Um … I just want to point out that those two hunters wouldn't have been able to escape that horde if it wasn't for that pilot…" she trailed off, twiddling her thumbs.

Their glares deepened before Weiss finally sighed, turning to the book bag on her bed as she began to unload it. "Look, I'm done talking about this. You guys can talk to her if you want. Become her friends, even! But leave me out of it. I have no intention of fraternizing with some rabble pretending to be a Huntress."

With that, she pushed the argument out of her mind. Ruby and Yang sighed, and though they couldn't exactly just ignore it, they at least buried their feelings to maintain the group dynamic. But Blake, she took the sudden fury she had for the heiress and locked it away, if only for the chance to unleash it on her later.

-O-O-O-

Far away in a darkened boardroom, a meeting was taking place. Four old men glared at each other in the shadows, each daring the other to break the silence. Finally one did, and growled out, "How could you let this happen?"

"Me? What have _you_ done?" a second asked.

"More than you."

A third sighed. "Squabbling won't get that _girl_ back. We need her."

"Yes," said the fourth. "All our plans depend on us finding her. As soon as possible, in fact. The sooner we get her to agree to sign the company over, the sooner the Reclamation can begin."

He sighed. "What an absolute mess…"

The first growled under his breath. "Damn you, Eduard Carlisle."

"Don't forget the fool's wife."

The fourth cleared his throat. "While cursing their names may be cathartic, we have no time for it. Find her. Find the shipment manifests of any ships leaving in the last month – we'll track her down though brute force."

"And drag her back by brute force as well."

"We will reconvene when we have more information. In the meanwhile, look hard. Dismissed."

The four old men left the room, set on their tasks. They either didn't notice, or didn't care, about the fifth in the room, their amber eyes glowing brightly. The shadowed figure fiddled with the earring in their right ear, made of a deep purple, luminescent metal, and gave wicked smile as they crushed the photo of Constance Carlisle in their hand.

-O-O-O-

CODEX: Dust Reactor vs Dust Capacitor

On paper, dust reactors and dust capacitors are very similar. They both hold Dust for later use. Both use magnetism to compress the molecules in such a way that it ceases to be a solid, but not quite a liquid. But above all else, they do this to increase the output than if one used raw Dust alone.

Despite this, there is one notable difference between the two – capacitors are passive containers, and reactors are active. A capacitor can convert a single twenty gram Shock gem into fuel, and in a state of non-matter can give out nearly double the projected electric charge by compressing each molecule down to where there is nearly no distance between them. In this case, the capacitor casing acts as a large magnet to achieve compression. However, much of the charge is wasted on powering the magnetic field, which increases exponentially to how large the capacitor is. If the magnetic field collapses, the contained Dust returns to a solid state inside the capacitor and can be reconverted later. This system can be applied to virtually any container, as long as a magnetic field is present, and is particularly effective in a hybrid reactor/capacitor system to amplify the power available.

Reactors use a similar process. However, instead of a single chamber to store the compressed Dust, a Reactor uses a number of circular tubes flanked by dozens of small magnets. The compressed Dust dumped across each of these tubes. The diameter of the tube also denotes how much power can be pulled from the contained Dust at a time, which can be as large as half an inch to as narrow as a single molecule. In contrast to a capacitor, the Dust is propelled along these tubes by magnetism – while the magnetic field isn't nearly enough to compress the Dust alone, the kinetic energy gained from the circular motion does, provided that it can be propelled at high enough speeds. As a single field isn't being maintained, much less power is used to keep the Dust in a usable state while the size of the tube ensures that more power can be extracted from each molecule. However, a reactor has a severe drawback. If the magnets ever suddenly stop propelling Dust, it will solidify at speed and rupture the fuel lines, causing a catastrophic meltdown.

Alternatively, both reactors and capacitors possess the ability to 'dampen' their output by rapidly oscillating the magnetic wave of their containment fields – as maximum output is only achieved with a stable field, an unstable one can reduce output by as much as sixty percent without collapsing the field, with the added benefit of consuming less fuel.


	7. Chapter Six: Mingling

_So, I'm finishing this up at four in the morning. I have a final today. My brain is fried from studying. And here I am, pounding out the last few edits to this chapter so I can push this out in time._

_I love my life._

_Cheers, guys. Tell me what you think, I have an open-door policy for questions, comments, and critiques._

* * *

_Connie grunted as she concentrated on her drawing as hard as a six-year old could. It wasn't anything spectacular – the lines were wobbly, the corners were always a little too short or wide, and there was an awkward crook where she had tried to make the lines join together to make a rectangle. But to her it was a work of art, a masterpiece that joined the likes of the Moaning Lisa, Sunflowers, and the Lasting Supper. _

_It wasn't any of those famous works. No, what made it so important was that it was the same type of drawing that Daddy did all the time. It was a blueprint, drawn on professional grade paper; expensive, and now covered with the whole-hearted doodles of a child._

_She giggled as she put the finishing touches on her creation and stood from where she had been lying on the living room floor._

"_Daddy! Daddy!" she cried, racing through the kitchen and into her father's study. The room was an example of organized chaos – papers and books were stacked in corners, on bookshelves and piled on the miserable-looking cot squatting in the corner, and yet they were all sorted into their respective piles. Connie dodged around a precariously stacked tower and ran to her father, who was hunched tiredly over his desk as he pored over a blueprint of his own._

_When heard his daughter's voice, however, he turned to her with an excited grin and exclaimed, "Connie! What is it, sweetie?"_

"_Look! Look at mine!" she all but shouted, bouncing up and down as she shoved the blueprint into his hand._

_Inwardly, he grimaced at the waste of the expensive paper, but smiled all the same as his heart soared at the sight of the girl's doodles of a crudely drawn tank. "This is excellent, Connie. Did you draw this?"_

_She nodded. "I did! Do you like it?"_

"_Of course I do! You made it yourself," he said with an overly large grin on his face. "I'll go put this in my book. Why don't you find your mother? I have to finish this."_

_Ears twitching excitedly, Connie beamed and raced out of the room, leaving her father to slump back in exhaustion. He was a wry man, thin and haggard with sharp features that left him somewhat worse off for his multi-day marathon to finish his latest design in time. Admittedly, he had been holed up in his office for days, entering as soon as he woke and not leaving until well after it had gotten dark. The only reason he remembered to eat or stop before he passed out was because of his wife._

_God, how he loved that woman._

_On his desk was the design in question. It was for a new type of tank, or at least the turret for one. The gun was advanced – highly advanced – utilizing a bank of Dust capacitors to deliver rapid fire destruction. Paired with a reactor to give it even higher output, it would change the very role that Armor played on the battlefield. The only issue was how it would move. Treads were too slow, and air cushions were too fragile. What he needed was an idea, something revolutionary that would put his company on the map and perhaps even compete with Altesian Robotics. What he needed was some form of mobility that could get his turret to any location, regardless of the terrain._

_But what? If he wanted the damn thing to fly, he would've made a plane._

_He sighed and dragged out the scrapbook of every single one of his daughter's doodles. He loved his daughter, truly he did, but parenting took all the attention he had when he should be focusing on the company in order to get food into their mouths. It was especially true now, with Carlisle Industries still in its infancy. Without something to prove to his investors that he was true to his word, they would pull funding, and not one of those old bastards would be sympathetic to him and his Faunus family._

_Opening to a fresh page, he was about to slip the new blueprint into a laminated sleeve when he noticed something about it. Either by accident, coincidence, or design, Connie hadn't finished drawing the tank. No treads or cushion, although there were ports all along the sides. But ports for what?_

_Gears clunked into place in the suddenly-awake man's mind. He wrenched himself back toward his blueprint, already picturing a system of turbines and ducts to direct the hellfire of a Dust reactor. For an hour he worked like a madman, eyes wide and a crazed grin on his face as he brought his creation to life. Finally, after what seemed like only a minute, he lifted the completed design and studied it, looking for any imperfections or defects._

_There were none._

_Loud, booming laughter filled the house, and seconds later his alarmed wife was at the door to his study. Her eyes were wide with worry as she said, "Eduard? Eduard, what's wrong?"_

"_I did it!" he yelled triumphantly. "I finished it!"_

_Her confusion only lasted a moment longer before a large grin spread across her face, her fox ears perking up in excitement. And little Connie, the spitting image of his wife and innocent as only a child could be, was smiling all the same despite not having any idea what was going on._

-O-O-O-

#1

She was used to seeing the inside of her tank when she woke. At first it was out of necessity – she needed to be onsite right then and there in case a fellow student tried to sabotage her machine… _again_. Some of her Faunus brethren did the same, although much more reluctantly and always developing shadowy bags under their eyes by morning. It was fortunate for Connie that the reclined seat was heavily padded in order to protect against shock.

If nothing else, it made an excellent substitute for a bed.

However, this time, Connie woke up in pain. Her head throbbed just behind her eyes, and _god_, how her body _ached. _It felt like someone had put her through a meat grinder and then tenderized the bits. The smell of strong alcohol and disinfectants assaulted her nose and made her head spin, and her skin was irritated by scratchy blankets. In addition to this amalgamation of pain, her ears pulsed in time to a slow, steady beeping… still, she was conscious of mind enough to realize that she was in a medical facility of some sort, the gagging smell alone was enough to tell her that. In short, she was having a hell of a time. With a groan, she brought a hand to her pounding head.

"Ah, so our wayward Armor pilot is finally awake."

Connie groaned at Ozpin's voice. "Get the license plate of the truck that ran me over," she grumbled.

Ozpin chuckled. "Unfortunately they got away. However, there _is_ someone who would like to meet you."

Suppressing yet another moan, Connie forced her eyes open and immediately shut them again. Blinding light assaulted her with a vengeance that must have spanned generations.

"Let me shut the blinds," a familiar voice said. A second later, the piercing lights dimmed from a level that was agonizing to merely throb-inducing, and Connie hesitantly opened her eyes once more. She stared at an unfamiliar ceiling, sterile and pure white. The beeping was coming from a heart monitor to her left. The blinds had been closed on the left-hand wall, and straight ahead on the far wall was a locked cabinet full of vials of medicine.

She was in the infirmary or at least part of it. There had to be more to it as she was in a relatively small room with a single bed, albeit a comfortable one.

Connie looked to her right, where Ozpin sat leisurely sat in a chair with a cup of coffee in hand. Standing at his elbow was a tough looking girl, toned muscles visible beneath the brown jacket and pleated skirt of her school uniform. Despite that, she looked at Connie with a stern expression on her face … and her eyes seemed familiar, somehow.

Despite that, the fox glared back in suspicion.

"Good evening, Miss Constance," Ozpin said.

Pressing a hand to her face, Connie slowly sat up, wincing as her sides twinged. "How long have I been out?" she asked, her ears drooping.

Ozpin took a sip. "Not for long – two hours at the most. You gave us quite the scare when you injected yourself with medical grade Dust. Of course, passing out from heat exhaustion didn't help, either."

With a sigh, Connie gave Ozpin a half-hearted glare through her fingers. "I'll be fine, I've done it before."

At this, the unknown girl stepped forward. "You've _injected_ yourself with Dust _before_?" she demanded.

Connie gave a slow blink and a flick of her ear, staring blankly at her as she said, "Yes."

"You fool," the girl berated, stepping forward with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. "Don't you know how dangerous that is if your Aura isn't unlocked? You nearly killed yourself!"

"Why do you care?"

Even Ozpin was taken aback by the blunt question. There was no inflection, no emphasis, and no anger in Connie's voice. It was just a simple question, like she herself didn't care. However, before she could continue, Ozpin cleared his throat.

"Before you begin the interrogation, allow me to introduce you both," he said, gesturing to Connie as he looked at the unknown girl. "This is Constance Carlisle, pilot of the M7."

He looked to Connie. "And this is Nina Keller, leader of Team PSFN. She was one of the pair that you retrieved from the Emerald Forest."

The girl, Nina, stepped forward. "That was a reckless and foolish thing you did," she said. "Never, _ever_ do that again."

Connie didn't know what to say to that.

"At any rate," Ozpin said, "you saved your own life, Miss Constance. Using the Dust depleted your body's own energy, but you sealed some rather severe wounds that would have killed most people, or at the very least crippled them for a time. You had three fractured ribs, a severe laceration and internal hemorrhaging. Your quick thinking saved yourself and all of us quite a bit of grief. However, until you have unlocked your Aura, I have confiscated the rest of your stores."

A snarl twisted Connie's face, and she opened her mouth to snap at him.

"It's for your own protection," Ozpin interrupted, this time giving the girl a stern look. "Using it may have saved your life in the short term, but repeated use can permanently damage your body's ability to generate Aura. And as you've shown nothing but carelessness for your own survival, I would prefer to extend your life as long as I possibly can."

At this, Connie snorted.

"Nina is going to show you around the school now that classes have ended," he continued. "You'll need to get the lay of the land as soon as possible, seeing as you'll be joining class tomorrow."

Ozpin reached into his back pocket and pulled out a collapsed tablet. "This is your Scroll. It is registered to you and you alone. It cannot be replaced if it is lost or stolen. Any additional programs you want installed have to be run by our tech department, however."

He held the device out to her, and she hesitated before her arm snapped out and snatched it out of Ozpin's hand before he could blink, afraid to touch his skin.

Nina stared at the interaction, stupefied into silence.

Connie's ears flicked back and forth as she examined the collapsible tablet, her eyes wide in interest. Gone was her annoyance, and even her pain seemed diminished as she inspected the thing and played with it, quickly grasping the touchscreen controls. She was, quite honestly, a puppy fascinated by a new toy and Ozpin and Nina ceased to exist right then.

Ozpin, for one, was happy that the girl was distracted. One didn't act like she did without reason.

Nina on the other hand was watching the Faunus girl with something akin to morbid curiosity. It was like she had never seen a Scroll before…

Still transfixed by the device, Connie cleared her throat to speak.

"What happened to my tank?" she asked. A moment passed, and her eyes narrowed before she growled, "You didn't leave her there, did you?"

With a calming wave of his hand, Ozpin smiled and said, "Rest assured, it's been airlifted here so it's out of danger. It will be a few days before we finish the necessary preparations to house it however, so it may be some time before we can get around to repairing it," Ozpin said.

"Grendel."

At Nina's interruption, the other two looked up and gave her incredulous stares, and in Connie's case her ears went erect. The knight shrugged and said, "It was the name on the side of the turret. That's its name, right?"

Connie nodded, giving her a cautious stare. "Y-yes, that's her name."

Nina smiled. "I remember reading a poem by the same name a long time ago. A monster had been living outside a village for its whole life, struggling to survive, even as it tried to protect the people within it."

The room went silent. Ozpin got comfortable in his seat as Connie leaned forward in rapt attention. Her eyes were wide, somewhat shocked.

"It had been shunned for years, until another monster came and threatened the village, demanding it to hand over all the food meant for the winter or it would kill them all," Nina continued, a faraway look in her eyes as she recalled the story. "The villagers knew what it wanted though – they were just good sport for it, and that even if they gave in, they would surely be killed. The villagers resigned themselves to their deaths."

Nina smiled. "But the good monster couldn't stand for this, as it had grown to love the villagers and how they lived. On the eve of when the evil one would return for its demands, the good monster kept watch over the village gates, ready to attack when it arrived."

"And it did," Connie continued in a quiet, solemn voice. "It dropped rocks over its head to drive it away, and pushed it back towards a nearby gorge with spears made from tree trunks."

"Just as he was about to deal the killing blow," Ozpin cut in, "the evil one pulled him in close and ripped out his throat with his teeth, promising to kill the villagers as slowly as possible."

Connie was doubly shocked, and stared at Ozpin.

"With its dying breath, the good monster grabbed the evil one around the middle and ran them both through with his spear, and died with a smile as they toppled over the cliff," Nina finished. "The villagers saw the monster's sacrifice and built a monument in his honor, and named him Grendel."

Nina looked to Ozpin. "I wouldn't have thought you would have been interested in old legends, professor."

Ozpin smiled and said, "As time passes, you'll find that even though legends have changed throughout the generations, there's always some small spark of truth to them," he said.

Connie set the scroll aside. "You… k-know the story of Grendel?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"It's a famous tale throughout Atlas. Even if weren't, tales like those are often the most important to remember," Ozpin said.

With an ever-so small smile, Connie clutched the scroll to her chest. "My mother used to read that story to me," she murmured, though it was too quiet for the other two to hear.

Nina stepped forward, getting the girl's attention with a small wave.

"About what happened in the forest," she said, wringing her hands. "I am a Huntress, so I know I wouldn't have survived that horde if you and Grendel hadn't been there to drive them back. So thank you, truly."

What she did next shocked Connie to the point that she went deathly pale. Without another word Nina dipped forward into a bow, a fist over her heart in a sign of respect.

"I owe you my life," she said. "Ask anything of me, and my team and I will assist you."

Connie was still flabbergasted, her mind having gone blank.

Neither of them noticed Ozpin leave, either.

It was only when Nina stood straight again that Connie hesitantly asked, "Why?"

It was Nina's turn to be confused, quirking an eyebrow. "Because you saved my life? Do I need a reason?"

Her simple statement was lost on Connie. _Reason? Of course you need a reason! You don't pledge loyalty for no reason! First Ozpin and now her? What's wrong with these people?! _

Connie didn't voice her thoughts, however. "I see," she said.

"At any rate," Nina said, "it's time for dinner. If you'll follow me, please."

Nodding, Connie swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, though she barely took three steps before Nina blushed and looked away. "You might want to change out of that."

With a blink, Connie looked down at herself and the open-backed paper gown that protected her modesty.

"Oh."

-O-O-O-

It had only taken a few minutes for Nina to find a spare uniform. Granted, the jacket was one – or three – sizes too big, but it worked. That is, if 'working' meant hanging down _past her skirt_. There was an uncomfortable tightness in her side, a side effect of the rapid healing the medical Dust forced on her body, but hopefully she could work it out in her morning routines.

She fiddled with her jacket sleeves as she followed Nina through the halls, matching her pace but always keeping a step behind. Connie didn't know what to think about the older girl. She seemed to notice Connie's discomfort and filled the silence for the both of them, rattling off information as it came to mind. So far, Connie learned that she and her team were in their second year, the names of her shields were Tweedledee and Tweedledum, and that her partner was perhaps the biggest ass on Remnant.

The girl was loud, boisterous, and serious about her work. Somehow … she seemed trustworthy. But Connie had been fooled before.

"… We're in the West Wing right now," Nina said. "The infirmary's here, as well as the Engineering Lab and Armory. A lot of the classrooms and lecture halls are here, too."

Connie's face lit up. "Is my tank here?"

Nina shook her head. "No, it's being stored in the VDF hangars until the old Armory's ready. I can take you there tomorrow, if you like."

"VDF?" Connie questioned.

"Vale Defense Force," Nina explained. "They're stationed here. Under the school, actually. They're irregulars – the Vale Army doesn't have jurisdiction over them so Professor Ozpin offered for them to stay here in case an Emergence happens. They can be deployed even before the Huntsmen are."

Connie frowned. "Were they the ones who brought the Hammer?"

Nina paused. "The what now?"

"The airstrike," Connie said flatly.

"Oh!" Nina exclaimed. "Yep! That's them."

With a distracted nod, Connie looked out the windows as they walked through the halls. They had made their way to the second floor and were passing by an empty study room when she noticed how _expansive_ Beacon was. The school's three wings were arranged in a triangle around Beacon Tower – the West Wing had a clear view of far-off Vale, the North overlooked the Forever Fall, and the Southeast Wing kept a close eye on the Emerald Forest. Each was large enough to house the entire school population at any given time.

The school was impressive.

Connie's expression must have betrayed her thoughts, as Nina was watching her over her shoulder as she said, "It's pretty cool, isn't it?"

"It… it is. There's just so much _color,_" Connie said blissfully.

Nina frowned. "Color?"

"It – never mind, it doesn't matter," she said, flustered.

Though she was tempted to press for details, Nina nodded curtly and continued on her way. "We're heading to the Southeast Wing right now – it's the cafeteria – and the North is where most of the dorms are. Of course, if you ever get lost your Scroll has a built-in map."

Ear only half-tuned to the knight, Connie nodded as she looked around, eyes on swivels as she tried to take in everything that she could.

Nina watched in amusement. "You know, you don't _have_ to look at everything. You're going to be here for a while."

Connie blinked. "But I was told by Professor Ozpin to orient myself with the school as soon as possible," she said, her voice flat.

"Yes, _orient_ yourself, not push yourself to the point that you're making a three dimensional map in your thick skull," Nina countered with a smile. A moment passed, and Connie's mind went blank when the knight reached out and grabbed her hand. "Now come on, let's go get some grub before everything good is taken."

Before Connie could jerk her hand back, Nina latched on with an iron grip and dragged her through the halls. Unable to rip her arm away, Connie settled for glaring daggers into the back of the girl's head, her own hand numb and deprived of blood. She huddled further into herself as they went along, her head ducking as they passed faceless students. It was an occurrence that happened more and more often as they got closer to the stairwell – by the time they reached it, Connie's face had taken on a stiff, pained expression, and once they actually made their way to the first floor her ears were laid back and her eyes were constantly darting back and forth.

They passed through the massive auditorium which was the center of Beacon Academy and where most of the duels took place. The mass of students was thicker here now that it was right in the middle of the dinner rush. The cafeteria was no exception.

The hall was gigantic for being a simple cafeteria, with rows of long tables stretching all the way down to the buffet. But more than that, it was filled to the brim with other students – humans mostly – but Connie could see an odd Faunus here and there, including a meek-looking rabbit Faunus that fidgeted as she waited in line. And that was just at the entrance, where the chatter of the room washed over them in a tidal wave.

"C'mon, let's go meet the team," Nina said, hauling the girl along. To Connie's horror she barreled right down an aisle between two tables, leading the pair through a mass of humanity. She felt curious eyes look her over as the chatter around them fell slightly, only to pick back up again as they went back to their meals and conversation. For this, Connie was grateful.

She hated drawing attention.

Passing by a group of four girls – where one in a red hood squealed, babbled, and pointed at her as soon as she saw her – Nina led Connie towards a table cut off from the main ones. Three others were there, one a surly-looking teen wearing a cardigan, and the other two nearly identical with unruly blond mops for hair. With their uniforms exactly the same, the only way to tell them apart was by the color of their eyes – one pair was blue while the other was brown.

They were obviously waiting for their leader, having set a fourth plate at an empty seat.

Nina smiled as she came to the table. "Rug rats, listen up! I brought Sleeping Beauty, so be nice."

The brothers looked up with cheeky grins, while the third glared at her with equal parts contempt and suspicion. Both carried a sense of foreboding to Connie. Her heart was in her throat, but she schooled herself into impassiveness a second later. An exercise in not showing weakness was something she was very familiar with. They reached the table, and Nina finally let go of her hand as she said, "Guys, Connie. Connie, this is Patrick O'Brien," – a wave at the glaring one – "and Shawn and Franklin Connor."

The twins grinned. "Hey there, pretty lady," Shawn asked, being the one on the right with brown eyes. "Am I in heaven? Or are you an angel?"

Connie blinked. _What the hell?_

Nina's face fell into her palm as Franklin groaned and said, "Aw geez, that was _terrible,_ dude!"

"Oh yeah? And you can do better?" Shawn sneered.

"Fuck yeah!"

"Fuck me life …" the one named Patrick groaned, slouching in his seat as he picked at his barely-touched dinner.

Franklin grinned. "Hey baby! Roses are red, and bananas are yellow, so you wanna go out with a nice little fellow?"

Four pairs of eyes stared at Franklin, who still wore a wide, shameless grin.

"_Frankie,"_ Shawn said warningly. "Do you _have_ to flirt with everything in a skirt?"

"You're one to talk!"

"At least I _complimented _her! You didn't!"

"I _did so_ compliment her!"

"_Where the fuck did you compliment her?!"_

"I asked her out!"

"Asking her out is not a compliment, dude!"

Franklin grinned. "It is if it's from me."

Not knowing what to do, or even say for that matter, Connie's blank, cold stare bored into Franklin.

"_If we are done,_" Nina growled, "I'm _trying_ to get Connie familiar with everything. She starts tomorrow."

Patrick scoffed and threw his fork into his mashed potatoes. "Familiar? The only thing an animal'd be familiar with is how to spread a little frothmouth, Nellie. Keep it away from me, I need ta get meself a shot."

He suddenly stood, knocking his chair away as he looked to his leader. "I'm headin' ta bed. Later," he said, refusing to look at Connie before he turned and stalked away, shoulders hunched and fists clenched in annoyance. Driving a shoulder into the crowd, he quickly disappeared and Connie lost sight of him.

She released a breath.

"Sorry about him," Nina said. "He's a little… culture-shocked, around Faunus."

"Culture-shocked?" Shawn asked incredulously. "More like racist dick!"

"Don't insult your teammate, Shawn."

"But-!"

"_Anyway,"_ Nina stressed, "now that my partner has left we can actually be civil."

With that, she took a seat. Connie was much more reluctant to, longing for space to herself – possibly that dark, abandoned corner over there – but she didn't know or want to know what would happen if she refused. She'd seen things like that all the time back in Ironwood …

And so, she forced herself to sit. Even if it was tentative.

From there, things seemed to blur. Dinner was slow. The twins were curious, but a warning frown from Nina kept them at bay. Any fool with the balls to come up to Connie and ask questions was quickly shot down with deathly glares as well. She'd barely talked either, the flavors melded together, completely unappetizing at the seemingly claustrophobic table, but Connie forced bite after bite down her gullet. A plate had been left for her and so she'd eat it, hungry or otherwise.

But all she wanted to do right now was ease her churning stomach.

Still, it was… peaceful, in a sense. Not to her, not when she was too busy eyeing the students closest to her and trying to gauge if they were a threat. But to the other students, everyday life passed as it always did. They ate. They talked. They laughed. They… bullied.

Connie's lip curled when she saw a girl – the one with rabbit ears, no less – get stopped by… _that punk!_

She shot up from her seat, her meal forgotten as she glared at the bully, the same one that had insulted her tank. Aggravated by the lack of a black eye, surely healed by his Aura, Connie leveled her fiercest glare at a hapless Cardin and grabbed an errant glass of orange juice from a nearby table.

Nina saw this. "Connie? Are you alright?" she asked.

She was ignored. Connie strode away, muttering apologies to people she bumped into as she slowly approached the hounded girl. By now the other three had joined in, surrounding the poor Faunus and leaving no escape.

_Why isn't anyone doing anything?! Where's the teacher?_

Connie stopped herself. A teacher wouldn't help. With a scowl, she noted that even her fellow Faunus were not doing anything, instead pointedly ducking away so as not to not get caught up in it.

It was a tragedy to see allies of blood forsake one of their own.

Pushing her thoughts away and a letting out a small huff, Connie walked until she was right behind the bully. It was only then she noticed how… _massive_ he was. Sure, she had noticed it before, but the slight against her tank had dulled her awareness. Now? She wouldn't be surprised if he was related to a Beowolf somehow.

The trepidation disappeared when she heard the girl nervously say, "U-um … may I help you?" To see the group of strangers around her made the rabbit Faunus freeze, too used to the abuse heaped on her by the rest of society.

Connie could imagine a sneer on the punk's face, and heard him ask in a mocking tone, "Yeah, I'd like to settle a bet with my boys here. Are those things real?"

He pointed to the girl's rabbit ears. At her confused expression, he reached out to grab one of them

Connie tapped his shoulder and cleared her throat.

Growling, the bully turned and snapped, "What the hell do you –"

He recognized her. Stunned by her sudden reappearance, Cardin had no time to defend himself as Connie sloshed her juice directly into his eyes. The bully stumbled back, yelling in pain as he clawed at his face. Connie leapt into the group, shouldering by Mohawk as she grabbed the stunned Faunus' arm and blew through them like a storm. Ignoring the girl's protests, Connie ducked and weaved her way through the equally stunned students as they stood to see what the commotion was about. In record time they made it to the cafeteria entrance, where there was only a trickle of students coming in.

It boggled the mind to think that the entire student body was in that one room and not a single one did a thing to stop the bullying. At least back in Ironwood, the Faunus had grouped together and supported each other. If a bullying was about to take place and a group of Faunus was present, Cardin would've been beaten within an inch of his life.

It was only that that Connie realized that the girl she was dragging along was yelling "_Stop!"_ right in her ear.

Connie let go, allowing the poor girl to huddle into herself with a frightened look on her face.

"Why? Why did you do that?" she asked with tears in her eyes.

This wasn't the reaction Connie was expect had expected.

"I-I –" she stammered. "I… got you away from them."

"_Why?"_ the girl repeated. "If you'd have just let them have their fun, they would have left me alone! Now they'll _look_ for me! They'll _bully _me! I don't have time to _deal_ with them!"

Connie opened and closed her mouth, ears laid back, unable to form a sentence.

It was the Faunus girl's turn to stumble over herself. "I-I'm sorry. But… please, I don't need your help."

With that, she turned and strode back into the hell that was the cafeteria, leaving Connie to stand there in confusion. Even after leaving Ironwood, even after traveling by herself for months, she had never felt more alone than she did right then.

-O-O-O-

CODEX: Vale Defense Force

The Vale Defense Force, or VDF, has existed ever since the founding of Vale itself in one form or another. The kingdom's natural defenses, being located on a coast and sandwiched between canyons to the south and mountains to the north, allowed the kingdom to maintain a relatively small army. Militia groups would gather in times of crisis, such as an invasion or natural disaster. The advent of gunpowder allowed more people to defend their homes, which the Vale Army took to with gusto – within ten years, every soldier was outfitted with a firearm.

However, many people were still dissatisfied with the Army and began establishing armed groups. Competition between groups led to skirmishes throughout the city, and to prevent the Army from cracking down on them they combined into a single large entity that would be much more effective than many small groups, eventually becoming a full third the size of the regular army. While this group would be called many names, it wasn't until the Great War that the group became known by their current title – the Vale Defense Force, or VDF, dedicated to the sole defense of their home. Being irregulars, they are not governed by standard military protocol and operate under the sole direction of the acting commander, although his orders can be overruled at any time by the Council or the headmaster of Beacon.

Currently, the VDF forces are housed in a secure bunker in the Beacon Plateau. They number five thousand strong with an assortment of light vehicles, tanks, and three flights of combat-ready Bullheads, though they have been blocked from acquiring any usable amount of legged vehicles on account of their informal status. The base itself is well-defended, with multiple gun emplacements dotting the surface of the plateau, including one-hundred and fifty separate cannon emplacements, twenty-five rocket and missile emplacements, and multiple elevators and tunnels to allow the VDF to deploy anywhere within a ten mile radius of the plateau, just outside Vale itself where the Army has jurisdiction. Most soldiers operate on a rotation, and no more than one thousand soldiers remain on call at any time under orders of the Vale Council, in an effort to quell any possible uprising.

Rumors persist that they are working on a rapid deployment system of high-speed rail tunnels under the city and beyond to allow near-instantaneous deployment. However, such an endeavor is unfeasible as it would require multiple building permits and allowances to build such a system, making such rumors easily dismissed.


	8. Chapter Seven: Frivolity

"Professor Ozpin," Glynda Goodwitch said, "there seems to be a problem."

Sparing himself from the chaos of the cafeteria, Ozpin had taken to eating in his office years ago. His desk was certainly big enough for it. It was no surprise to Glynda to walk into the headmaster's office to see him with a forkful of turkey stuffing halfway to his mouth, looking at her with a dull expression.

He cleared his throat and pushed his plate aside. "Is there something that I'm unaware of?" he asked, steepling his fingers.

Glynda didn't respond, instead accessing her scroll and uploading a file to his computer. The holographic screen lit and showed a video of a suited Connie approaching Team CRDL in the stairwell, only to later sock the leader in the eye moments later. Ozpin raised an eyebrow.

"Disputes happen, Professor Goodwitch."

Uploading another video, Glynda watched Ozpin expectantly as Connie – glass of juice in hand – threw it the beverage in Cardin's eyes and forcibly dragged off a rabbit Faunus he had been harassing.

"Professor Ozpin," Glynda said, "I understand your reasoning for bringing Miss Carlisle into this school. But this is her _first day_ here, and already she has accosted Mister Winchester. Twice."

"You know as well as I do that there were extenuating circumstances," Ozpin replied, reaching for his coffee.

Glynda sighed. "I know. Your hands-off policy has worked well in the past, both for the abusers and the victims. But … Miss Carlisle has had an entirely different upbringing, with different circumstances. Her mentality is that of a pack animal, if I may be so blunt. She retaliates much too quickly. She's stunted."

Ozpin was silent. Only the sound of his silverware clacking against his plate filled the room. Glynda recognized his thoughtful expression as he stared off into space, something he always did while he got his thoughts in order. And so she waited patiently, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk with her scroll folded neatly on her lap.

"…Have you been to Atlas, Glynda?" Ozpin asked after he set his cleared plate aside.

Glynda shook her head. "Actually, no. It is too far to the North for my tastes. James has invited me several times, but I've refused."

Ozpin smirked. "Out of principle or personal reasons?"

"Both, I should say." Though Glynda's expression remained unchanged, Ozpin could see the mirth that danced in the woman's eyes. He didn't even need to question her undying contempt for James, no matter how hard the General tried to cozy up to her.

He thought for a long moment before he finally moved, pushing himself away from his desk to spin and face the massive glass clock face of the tower, which doubled as his office window, now giving a perfect view of the setting sun. "Atlas," he began, "is a cruel place. It snows nine months out of the year, and the other three are filled with freezing rain. It is barren and bleached of most life. One of the few safe havens is the Kingdom of Atlas, located at the base of the Silver Mountain. It is not uncommon for a man to walk out into the streets at night and his body not to be found until the next year, frozen in some back alley."

A sigh. A slow drink of coffee.

"But the Faunus... I see how they are treated here, in Vale," he continued. "I've seen cruelty. Nothing makes my blood boil more than to see a bright, young soul harass another. But _nothing _compares to what happens in Atlas. Faunus are expendable there, Miss Goodwitch. The value of a human life is worth far more than that of a Faunus. It is how the Schnee Dust Company has remained so successful, as they have a ready supply of expendable labor on hand, ready to work for a pittance. Hospitals, police… even the mailman would sooner serve a human than a Faunus, and they do. The pack mentality you mentioned is practically imprinted in their genes; they form packs as it is the only way to survive."

Ozpin looked back to Glynda. "She is different. But we are also not her. She needs to be shown a better way of life than what she's had until now, otherwise her story will be over before it's even begun."

Glynda was silent. She was lost in her own mind this time, thinking of how best to resolve the situation at hand.

"So, we do nothing?" she finally asked.

"Yes," Ozpin replied with a nod. "At least for now. Cardin, however, will need to be dealt with if he doesn't change. We all have to grow up at some point…"

He spun in his chair, turning to face the setting sun. "But, for now, let us leave them to their own devices. They are only children once, and I want to give them as much time and freedom as I can for them to enjoy it."

-O-O-O-

_Why?_

That one word floated around and around Connie's head. _Why_ had that Faunus refused her help? _Why_ wasn't anyone _else_ helping?

…Why was she even here?

Connie shuffled through Beacon, not paying attention to where she was going. The halls were empty, devoid of the hall monitors that swarmed through Ironwood like a plague. She had hated them with a passion, as they were hand-selected from the meanest, roughest students on campus to make their life a living hell for both Faunus _and_ humans. And yet, she had known they were the enemy. She had known the teachers were the enemy, that _humans_ were the enemy. She had known to square her shoulders and bow her head before a human, lest she be made an example of. She had known to cover for an ally, keeping them safe from the retribution of the Disciplinary Committee. It was the way her world had worked – the humans were the masters, and the Faunus were the serfs.

And yet, this place confused her. No, _everywhere _confused her. She had met cruel humans and kind ones in her travels, just as she had encountered cruel and kind Faunus. In the last two days, she had been given the opportunity of a lifetime by Professor Ozpin and confronted a bully. Tolerance and racism. She had found just as many faults as she did good things.

She almost preferred the black and white hell she came from. At least there she could make some sense of it.

Shaking her head, Connie let her feet carry her to her dorm.

Her fox was just as confused, the inner animal slinking in the back of her mind. Though she wasn't in any danger now, her instincts were ready to jump in and tear into anything that even looked at her strange. She was tightly wound as she shuffled her way up four flights of stairs, shoulders tense as she strode to her dorm. It was dark now, leaving the light of the moon to shine through the hall windows. In all honesty it was much like the previous night, though she could hear the muffled conversations of teams that were unwilling to go to bed quite yet.

That much was similar to Ironwood, she noted with a sigh.

Connie made her way to the end of the hall, not paying attention and lost in thought, and so when the door just ahead of her swung open she leapt back with a growl in her throat. Her ears were splayed and she was ready to flee.

Before her was a girl shorter than herself, and that was saying something. She had black hair, highlighted with red, and wore pajamas with the picture of a Beowolf on the front that was far cuter than the real thing, toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste in hand.

They stared at each other before the girl let out an excited squeal. "O-oh! You! You're the pilot of the M7!" she shouted gleefully, pointing at her with the toothbrush

Connie jerked back as if struck. "U-uh …"

Not even a second after the girl's outburst three other heads peeked around the corner of the doorframe, one above the other. The top one had a mane of long blond hair and violet eyes that twinkled with equal parts curiosity and mischief. The next one wore a black bow and was the most neutral of all of them, simply looking her over with slanted amber eyes.

It was the last face, closest to the floor that made her tense. Her blue eyes seemed to bore into her and freeze her solid with a frigid glare.

The younger girl, however, looked like she was about ready to burst at the seams as she said, "I saw your Initiation! You were so cool!"

Connie didn't know what to do when the three others stepped out into the hall. The blonde stood with a smile on her face and fists on her hips, subconsciously, or perhaps knowingly, pushing out her chest. The girl with the bow finally gave her a reassuring smile, though it was a small, tiny thing. Still, Connie was more distracted by the subtle twitch of her bow.

Before she could think on it, the girl with the frigid glare stepped forward. Her gaze pierced Connie as she demanded, "Now just _what_ are _you_ doing here?"

The blonde nudged the shorter girl. "C'mon now, Weiss. What'd I say about cranking up the heat?"

The Beowolf-pajama girl sighed irritably. "Ugh, look, I'm sorry about my partner. She can be a little …"

"Pissy?" the blonde offered.

"_Pissy?"_

"…Difficult," pajama finished with a wince, listening to the pair bicker… or rather, antagonize each other. She stuck her hand out. "A-anyway, I'm Ruby! I-it's uh, really good to meet you!"

Though she kept glancing back at the arguing pair behind Ruby, Connie studied at the outstretched hand with apprehension. She'd been presented with a hand time and time again only for it to be pulled away with a sneer or, worse, brought against her. So she stayed where she was, shuffling slightly in case she needed to run.

"U-um…" Ruby stammered. "W-we could, y-you know, uh, go and study, or… something …"

The girl with the bow came up beside Ruby, causing Connie to take a step back in the presence of two people.

"Ruby, what are you doing?" she whispered.

"_I don't know! Help me!"_ Ruby hissed.

The bow-bedecked girl rolled her eyes, but looked to Connie with a small smile as she said, "What she means to say is that it's good to meet you. I'm Blake."

Connie glanced back between them, though she relaxed slightly when neither made any sudden moves. "…Connie," she said.

"And I'm Yang!"

The shout was accompanied by the blonde rejoining Ruby's side with a grin. Yang draped herself over the girl's shoulder, nearly sending her to the floor as Yang said, "Rubes here and me are sisters. Us, Blakey and the Ice Queen are Team RWBY!"

"Do _not_ introduce me as Ice Queen. And your grammar was biblically horrific," the white-haired girl said.

"Fine, fine, Princess …" Yang said, her grin unceasing.

While she ignored the jab, the girl still rolled her eyes as she said, "If you _must _know, I'm Weiss. But back to my earlier question, why are you here?"

Her question was not one to be denied. Connie, sensing this, quietly lifted a finger and pointed behind the group.

"My dorm," she muttered.

At this, Ruby positively squealed. "You're our neighbor? That's so cool! We have an actual Armor pilot as our neighbor!"

Connie gulped. This was getting out of hand.

To her eternal relief, Blake saw her growing panic and stepped forward. "Look, I doubt that she appreciates being held up in the hall like this. Why don't we continue tomorrow?"

Ruby grinned. "Yeah! We'll wake you up, and then we can all go down for breakfast!"

Not knowing what else to do, Connie nodded. Instead of waiting for the four get move out of her way, she ran at the wall and kicked off of it, flipping herself over the group before shouldering her way through her door and slamming it closed.

It all happened in less than two seconds.

"… Well," Yang said, staring at their neighbor's door in stupefaction. "That was a thing."

Ruby, Blake, and Weiss could only nod, mouths agape.

-O-O-O-

_The drill sergeant walked among the new recruits. He was a tough, hardened man, muscles bulging under his uniform, and his laser-blue eyes bore into the children before him without mercy. It was a cold day in Atlas; fresh powder dusted the training field while dull grey clouds billowed overhead, billowing from the harsh winds that blew down from the mountain._

"_We will now begin the enlistment ceremony for the Fourth Armored Regiment!" he bellowed. "I am Drill Sergeant Nathanial Flint. I have the misfortune to be assigned to train you Faunus bastards! This may be the enlistment, but you are far from soldiers! You aren't even recruits! Right now you're cattle."_

_He shook his head. "Not even cattle – you're fit for nothing but the shit stain you'll be after you're eaten by an Ursa! In three years, we will break you, mold you, and give you the tools to be as good as any damned Huntsman!"_

_He rounded on a mouse Faunus. "You there!" he barked._

"_Y-yes sir!" the boy cried, not a day older than fifteen._

"_Who are you?!"_

"_N-Nathanial Drake!"_

"_Good god, who the fuck stole my name?!"_

"_M-my parents, sir!"_

"_Well then, Nathanial Drake, why are you here?"_

_The mouse steeled himself and managed to look the sergeant in the eye. "To defeat the Grimm, sir!"_

_The sergeant grinned. "A worthy goal… then you'll be a good snack for a Beowolf!"_

_He moved on to a bull Faunus will wiry blonde hair. "Who are you?!"_

"_Thomas Wagner, from Vale," he said softly._

"_Speak up!" Flint snarled angrily. "Who are you?!"_

"_Thomas Wagner, from Vale!" _

"_Too soft! Go practice while you're cleaning the toilets!"_

_He glared at the next one as the teen shuffled away. "You! Next!"_

"_Bethany Argent, from Dales!" she saluted._

"_Wrong! You're from the pig shed!"_

"_Yes sir! I am less than cattle!"_

"_No, you're a fly on a horse's ass!" he snapped at her._

"_Yes sir!"_

_Though he didn't lose his scowl, he was pleased of the girl's subordination._

"_Next!" he shouted at the boy next to her. He had short, spiky brown hair and heavily tanned skin._

"_Reginald Pearson-Wales, sir!"_

"_That's a fucking horrible name, change it!" he snarled. "What are you doing here?!"_

"_Sacrificing myself for humanity, sir!" he squeaked._

"_Finally, someone who gets the idea around here!"_

_As he moved on to his next victim, General Ironwood watched from his office. The Academy was a dark, windowless monolith that loomed over the school grounds and the nearby city of Atlas. Truthfully, he hardly ever handled his own school's day to day affairs anymore, as he duties as a General often took all the free time he had. Still, Ironwood Academy practically ran itself. Standing next to him was a thin man in a lab coat that swamped his frame, wiry orange hair billowing out over his brow._

"_Look at that," Ironwood said. "Untrained, unbroken, but they have the steel to want to be soldiers. It was like that when I first enlisted."_

_The scientist straightened his glasses. "Sure, maybe, but what's the point in intimidating them?"_

"_It's a rite of passage," he said. "To make a soldier, you have to break down what he was before you can make him what he can be. Start with a clean slate. Remember that when you're finishing that android of yours, professor."_

_The scientist shifted uncomfortably. "General, Penny is only a few days old. Her AI is still in its infancy. It's far too early to… break her. Besides, my father is the one who created her. I just built her body."_

_Augustus Geppetto was quite proud of that fact. He was about to speak again when he noticed the drill sergeant passing over some of the new recruits, confusing him, as the sergeant seemed to take great pleasure in tormenting the lot of them. "Why's he ignoring some of them?" he asked._

_Ironwood smiled grimly. "He can see in their eyes that they've already had their rite of passage." They looked on as Flint glanced over a black haired girl before moving on. "Homes destroyed, families torn apart by Grimm. They're obvious if you know what to look for – they've got a different look on their faces. And then there's the third category."_

"_Sir?"_

"_The ones that are already broken. The ones that have already lost everything. Those ones make the best soldiers – they absorb the training because they simply have nothing left. They _become_ the training."_

_Flint nearly passed by a girl with fox ears, but he paused. She was young. Too young really, probably not even twelve. Her russet-colored hair was dirty and matted, and she wobbled where she stood. It seemed like the wind would blow her right over. Maybe it was the dark circles around her eyes, or a trick of the clouds, but the girl was caught in a dead-eyed stare that he only saw in war veterans and battlefield survivors – the ones who had seen entirely too much._

_He glared at her. "What's your name?" he growled._

_The girl didn't make a sound, but blinked slowly and vacantly._

"_What is your name?" he repeated more forcefully._

_The girl took a breath. "Constance Carlisle," she said quietly, her voice monotonous._

_Flint stared her down, his face impassive before he reached down and lifted her by the front of her shirt. Even when she was within an inch of him and his fearsome glare, the girl showed no response. Huffing in approval, he roughly dropped her, leaving her to sprawl on the ground at his feet._

"_Get food in your stomach before you collapse; you're no good to me dead. Next!"_

_As Flint moved on, the little fox Faunus picked herself up and shuffled away, looking for the mess hall._

-O-O-O-

Sleep had been difficult that night for Connie. While the previous night she had simply passed out, that night she was able to sort through her thoughts and actually _think_ for the first time in what felt like a long while. She spent most of the night in a daze, letting the events of the last forty-eight hours swirl through her mind. It seemed she'd hardly closed her eyes when someone began pounding on her door, jolting her out of her trance with all the tenderness of a hammer.

"_Connie! C'mon, we're late for class!"_ Ruby's voice called before the muffled thumps raced away.

That got her up and moving in a second, even with her mind in a daze. She tore through her abandoned duffle, clothing sent flying as she pulled together something more than the oversized shirt and underpants she wore to bed.

It was when she was pulling on the grey, pleated skirt that she noticed what she was doing. Not even realizing it, she had gathered the uniform from her time at Ironwood Academy. Many times she had been tempted to burn it and any leftover memories she had of the place, but now she was glad she hadn't. She doubted that she could wear her piloting suit to class, after all.

She left her dorm a minute later, now wearing white leggings, a white shirt, and a grey vest and skirt. Tugging at the skirt to make sure it hid the Maverick strapped to her thigh, she ran off to class, sparing an occasional glance at the scroll in her hand to make sure she knew where she was going.

As she sprinted down a deserted hallway, Connie found herself wondering why she cared so much that she was running. What was the point? If she was leaving at the end of the month anyway, why bother? So she slowed to an easy walk, taking her time through the halls and arrived at Dust and Aura Manipulation Theory 101 nearly twenty minutes after class had started. The lecture hall was built like an auditorium, with rows of desks on higher and higher levels. The students sitting at them stared at her with a mix of surprise and apprehension… possibly because of the teacher, who was in the middle of pointing her riding crop at the blackboard and now looked at Connie with a displeased glare.

"Miss Constance, how wonderful for you to decide to join us," Miss Goodwitch said sarcastically. "Find a seat. That is, unless you have somewhere _else_ to be?"

Connie didn't bother responding. A glance around the room told her that no one she had encountered so far was in the class with her, leaving her the dark as to where to sit – even if she had only met Ruby the day before, at least she _knew_ her. As it was she was on her own, so she instead took a seat at the top far corner and scooted as close to the wall as she could, ineffectually trying to keep as far away as she could from the black-haired teen next to her.

"Hey. I'm Raven Matthews," he said in greeting. Connie didn't bother answering him, instead looking down at an incomprehensible equation Goodwitch was writing out on the blackboard.

"You're lucky Goodwitch didn't blow you through the wall," he continued, unperturbed. "Usually if a student is late, she sets up a duel with _herself _as the opponent. Rumor is she hasn't been beaten in years."

Raven chattered on, grating on both pairs of ears _and_ her nerves. It wasn't that she cared about the theoretical movement of Aura as it caused a spontaneous collapse in ten Schoville units of red Dust to cause spontaneous combustion. Not at all, though she dutifully paid attention to a subject about which she had absolutely no clue what she was doing. No, it was the fact that Raven talked on and on and on and _on._ Even when he spoke too loudly and was pinned in place by Glynda's impressive glare, he continued seconds later, taking Connie's silence as encouragement to continue.

Finally, almost impossibly, class ended. The bell rang, signaling for everyone to get the hell out. Connie simply stood, not having any books to pack before making her way to the door. Of course, students were busy shoving their way through, so she stood off to the side and waited for them to leave, only to have the displeasure of Raven give her a cocky smirk and a wink as he left. She reached for the door but was stopped when Goodwitch reached out and flicked the lock, shutting the both of them inside.

"I'd like to have a word with you, Miss Constance," she said, directly behind Connie as she straightened her glasses. Connie spun on her heel with a small yelp, and not knowing what else to do, she nodded and followed the teacher to her desk. What Connie wasn't aware was that she shifted her feet and squared her shoulders, standing at attention without meaning to.

Glynda rapidly typed at her computer, calling up a file, and with a press of a button the holographic screen flipped so that Connie could see a video of herself in the stairwell. She was silent as she watched herself drop from the doorway and sock Cardin in the eye before sprinting away, leaving the group to flounder on the stairs.

With another button press, the screen went blank and Glynda looked Connie square in the eye, making the girl flinch away from the intensity.

"How do you explain what happened? Cardin Winchester brought this to my attention yesterday, and while the black eye you gave him is nowhere near the 'rabid maiming' he claimed it to be –"

Connie held back a laugh, though she couldn't stop herself from an amused snort.

"– I would still like to know your side of the story and why you felt it necessary to attack him."

With a clack of her shoes, Connie straightened herself with her arms held behind her back. "Ma'am, my intention was to wait until they had passed by. "

"Why?"

"It would have been easier than explaining my appearance," Connie explained. "However, I couldn't ignore them when the big one –"

"Cardin Winchester."

"– When Winchester insulted my machine."

Glynda stared at her for a long moment. "So you felt it necessary to give a member of the Winchester family a black eye over an insult not even directed at you?" she asked. Well… 'fumed' was more like it. At any rate, Glynda Goodwitch was not amused.

Connie stared back. "Miss Goodwitch… you have no talent as a Huntress and you are a terrible teacher."

Glynda stared at the girl with narrowed eyes, an eyebrow quirking with incredulity.

"MissConstance_,"_ she said, "I am not amused."

Connie nodded. "Exactly, ma'am. I insulted your abilities. Cardin Winchester insulted my tank. At Ironwood, an Armor pilot is nothing without their Armor. Insulting my tank was nothing less than insulting my abilities."

Pause.

"And forgive me for insulting you ma'am," Connie added, dipping into a bow.

Glynda sighed as she leaned back into her chair. "While I would question your ways of explaining things, I can understand where you're coming from. I will write this up as a… _misunderstanding_ between students."

Connie nodded, and turned to the door. She was reaching for the knob when Glynda called out, "One moment, Miss Constance."

When Connie turned back to her, Glynda went on to say sternly, "I realize that you are adjusting to our schedule, but try to get to class on time and not dawdle. Being late to your first class does not reflect well on yourself."

With another nod, Connie strode through the door and was off to her next class.

She had Oobleck's World History class next, something she was surprised to find that she shared with Team RWBY. They all smiled and waved, but Connie once again sequestered herself in the farthest corner from everyone. However, she was in for the shock of her life when a green whirlwind burst into the room, speaking a mile a minute as it slurped from… a coffee mug?

When the blur finally stopped at its desk, she saw a wiry, disheveled-looking man with green hair.

"Now, seeing as we have a new student, it's good that we finished the last unit yesterday," he chattered, so fast that his words were nearly unintelligib. "Let's jump right into the history of Vale. Now, in 1674 …"

Oobleck's opening line was about all she got out of the lesson. After an hour and a half of the teacher and his rapid-fire slurring, the bell rang its merciful tone. This time, Connie didn't wait for people to leave before her. She all but sprinted to the door and shouldered her way through it ahead of everyone else, ignoring the teacher as he yelled for her to slow down.

The irony of that request was breathtaking.

It was then that Connie halted where she stood, right in the middle of the hall where faceless students were rushing back and forth between their classes. A look at her scroll revealed nothing.

Where exactly was she supposed to go now?

"Connie!"

The voice drew Connie's attention behind her, where the shorter, hooded girl from yesterday walked towards her with a big grin on her face. Behind her stood her team – her blond sister, the black haired girl, and the Schnee as well, all waiting expectantly … though in the Schnee's case, she was none too pleased.

"Hey, Connie!" the red-haired girl said with a grin. "C'mon this way, it's faster. Oh! I'm –"

"Ruby, right?" Connie interrupted.

"Yep! Anyway, it's time for lunch. Wanna join us?" she asked, unconcerned with the brusque way she was interrupted.

_No. _

"Sure," Connie said, though it was forced.

"Great!" Ruby yelled excitedly.

With that, Ruby snatched Connie's hand and tugged the older girl along behind her. Connie nearly ripped her hand out of the girl's grasp to throw her over her shoulder, but restrained herself with the thought that _this isn't Ironwood._

And so she allowed herself to be dragged back to the girl's team, who stood in an alcove in the wall and out of the way of the rush of students. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help the way she tensed or the half-crouch she put herself in, ready to bolt at any second.

"Hey there, foxy lady!" the blonde, Yang, said with a grin. "Nice outfit!"

Connie blinked. "…Thanks."

The Schnee girl sighed and crossed her arms. "Even _you_ have to admit that was terrible, Xiao Long."

Yang shrugged. "Meh. I have fun."

"That _was_ bad, Yang…" Ruby muttered, holding onto Connie hand before she smirked and asked the fox girl, "What do you think?"

Caught off guard by the question, Connie panicked and blurted out, "U-uh, _no!"_

Even Blake, whose nose was stuck in her book, looked at her with confusion and… was that concern? Yang, on the other hand, grinned and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders.

"I think we're gonna get along just fine," she said.

Now that Ruby had rejoined them, Team RWBY made their way to the cafeteria with Connie in tow. She was wedged between Ruby and Yang, caught in their rapid crossfire as they assaulted her with questions. Who was she? Where did she come from? What was her weapon? How did she get the tank? The hooded girl was more concerned with the tank, to be honest, though she seemed eager to hear about anything. Yang was content to simply watch. Blake was too interested in her book to save her, and Weiss… well, she was either indifferent or pleased with her plight.

When they made it to the cafeteria, she was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been the previous night.

"They keep us on different schedules," Ruby explained when she saw Connie's puzzled look. "It helps keep the kitchens from being swamped. It doesn't really help when it's time for dinner, though…"

Connie found herself being pulled to the buffet line. Even from here, Connie could smell breads, meats, veggies, and other smells that made nearly made her salivate right then and there. Though she once again tensed at the closeness of too many humans, she also caught the scent of nearby Faunus and calmed herself with the thought that there were allies were nearby. Of course, it didn't help her that she didn't know any of them, but they were there.

After waiting in line for nearly twenty minutes, it was finally their turn to gather the food they wanted. Ruby went for a sandwich and a veritable _mountain_ of cookies, and Connie was sure that if it weren't for her sister's nagging she would've replaced the sandwich with even more pastries. Blake took some type of fish, and Weiss chose a plate of lettuce that she called a salad.

And Yang? Meat. Lots and lots of meat. What she had on one plate could probably feed Connie for a week if she rationed it out. Yang grinned at Connie's look of amazement as she said, "Oi, my eyes are up here, alright?"

Connie blinked, the innuendo lost on her.

Yang rolled her eyes and gently patted Connie on the shoulder. Hiding a frown when the fox girl flinched, Yang said gently, "Hey, come join us when you've got what you want. We'll save you a spot, okay?"

Fiddling with her tray, Connie nodded. Yang smiled and turned to walk away, meeting back up with her team at a far table.

Taking a breath, Connie turned back to the buffet … and froze. Her knees quivered. Her knuckles turned white. Her pupils dilated. Her gut clenched. Her heart pounded. And all for an innocuous circle of bread slathered in marinara and covered in gooey cheese.

Pizza.

Letting out an eager cry, Connie bowled over the student reaching for a napkin as she snatched up the entire pizza on display. Ignoring the irritated grumbles of students behind her, she gently set it on her tray and practically cradled it as she carried it over to where Team RWBY sat. Barely registering that another team was on the other side of the table, Connie was fixated on her food as she set herself down a good distance from the two groups.

Ruby perked up when the fox girl arrived. "Oh! Hey guys, this is Connie. She's the pilot of the M7."

The four across the table smiled at her. A girl with red hair and green eyes smiled and said, "Hello, I see you've met Team RWBY. My name is Pyrrha… Nikos…"

She trailed off as she watched the girl eat. Connie was ripping off slice after slice, eating one in the span of a few seconds before moving on to the next. Her hands and mouth were a mess of sauce and cheese, but there was something else that Pyrrha noticed.

"Are you … _crying?"_ she asked, concerned and morbidly curious. While the rest of her team was openly staring at her, at Pyrrha's words Ruby and Yang looked at Connie with concern of their own. Connie looked up at them in turn, just now realizing that her vision was blurry. But the flavors of the cheese, sauce, garlic, butter, and bread … they all just burst together in her mouth so _exquisitely _that she couldn't help it.

Slowly, she finished her slice and cleaned herself off, wiping off the grease before she said delicately, "I haven't had pizza in a while."

The two teams began to shift in their seats, uncomfortable. Finally, the blond boy looked her in the eye – inadvertently making her look away – as he said, "Um … you _do _realize that Beacon makes, like, the worst pizza. Right?"

At Connie's blank stare, he quickly corrected, "B-but if you like it, that's cool! Not, you know, coming down on what you like or anything … eh heh … yeah, never mind."

He rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly chuckling at being stared at by everyone at the table before he ducked his head back down to his food.

Ruby turned back to Connie and asked, "But why were you crying? You can get pizza pretty much anywhere, right?"

Connie tensed.

"So she was overreacting over that heart attack on a plate," Weiss said dismissively, stabbing at a plain piece of roughage. "It's not any of our concern."

Weiss was ignored – everyone else was staring at Connie with expectant looks. She shifted uncomfortably, ears laid back as she said, "… I never had it that often at the last school I was at."

"Which one was that?" Ruby asked innocently. Even Weiss had to admit she was curious, and so she set her fork down and gave the fox girl a discreet stare of her own.

A long moment passed, the chatter of the cafeteria filling the silence before Connie stared the young girl dead-on, making her shift uncomfortably before she finally looked back down at her pizza and muttered, "Ironwood."

Immediately Pyrrha balked, as did Weiss. Blake froze where she sat, fork halfway to her mouth. Ren was the very picture of calm, though his eyes hardened considerably. Ruby and Yang glanced among their friends before looking to each other in confusion, joined by Jaune. And Nora?

She was gone.

As Ren sighed and got to his feet to look for the disaster-prone woman, Ruby gulped and wrung her hands from the suddenly tense atmosphere. "Um … what just happened?" she whispered to her sister.

Yang shrugged.

Life around them continued, students talking and laughing too hard as they ate. Connie joined them, tuning out the stunned hunters as she quietly ate her pizza with much less gusto than before. They eventually returned to their own meals, minutes passing in uncomfortable silence as they ate food they no longer had any appetite for. Finally, Connie ate her last slice and stood, wordlessly picking up her tray to leave.

It was with almost an afterthought that she stopped and said over her shoulder, "Thank you for letting me join you for lunch."

With that, she left, skirting the wall as she made her way out of the cafeteria and disappeared into the crowd.

"Uh, what just happened?" Jaune piped up.

Yang nodded. "Yeah, why'd everyone get quiet?"

A collective sigh came from Weiss, Blake and Pyrrha. Pyrrha looked to the blonds of the group as she said warningly, "Do you really want to know?"

The pair nodded.

When Pyrrha's breath hitched, making it difficult to continue, Weiss picked up where she left off. "Ironwood Academy is one of the best schools for Huntsmen and Huntresses. Actually, I was there before I came here. But it has… a… _extremely_ hostile environment," she said carefully.

At this, Blake snorted and leveled an amber-eyed glare at the heiress. "'Hostile environment?' That's a kind term for a place that turns Faunus into _suicidal meatshields."_

Yang, Ruby, and Jaune were stunned into silence. Pyrrha was as well, though it was more at how bluntly it had been put.

"Wait, what?"

-O-O-O-

CODEX: Remnant Calendar

There are twelve months in the Remnant Calendar, the names of which have changed numerous times. However, people generally use the old names when the system was first established centuries before, beginning with the second month of winter, Morning Star. The third month of winter and the second in the year is Sun's Dawn. The spring months are First Seed, Rain's Hand, and Second Seed, during which time the weather is generally mild and fit for growing. The summer months are especially harsh, sometimes reaching well over forty degrees Celcius – they are Mid Year, Sun's Height, and Last Seed. The fall months are Heartfire, Frostfall, and Sun's Dusk. The year ends with the first month of winter, Evening Star.

Additionally, the days of the week are Morndas, Tirdas, Middas, Turdas, Fredas, Loredas, and Sundas, with Morndas the first day of the week. However, in Atlas and Vacuo, Sundas is the beginning of the week.

(Borrowed from the Elder Scrolls series)


	9. Chapter Eight: School Life

_So, it's a day early again. I won't have time to do it tomorrow, so you guys are getting it today._

_Also, I don't know if I've done this before, but I need to put in a note for what Connie's gun is. It's an Mk 47 Maverick from Destiny. I like the gun designs in that game, what can I say?_

_Enjoy._

* * *

The cafeteria was loud, echoing with the laughs and chatter of Huntsmen and Huntresses in training. To them, the day was peaceful, the outlandish workload and nigh-sadistic teachers aside. However, to the group of eight, time seemed to have stopped. Neither Team RWBY or JNPR made a sound, all staring at Blake with varying amounts of shock and confusion.

"Wait, what?" Yang asked, her face scrunched in confusion. "'Suicidal meatshields?' The hell does _that_ mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like, Xiao Long," Weiss said, her eyes boring into the blonde. "Ironwood is a co-op facility, they train Hunters as well as Armor pilots. However, instead of simply educating them, the teachers also pound something else into their heads."

"Er… like what?"

"That they're expendable."

At this, a cold, hollow feeling formed in Yang's stomach. She was silent, a horrified expression on her face. "Th-that's gotta be a joke. You're joking, right Weissy?" she pleaded, her voice shaky.

Ruby shivered, feeling ill as a sickly pallor came over her. "I-I think I'm gonna leave. Later, guys," she said in a blur, and in a flash of rose petals vanished from the cafeteria.

Weiss didn't even notice her partner's absence. She stared Yang in the eye with no trace of humor to be found. "Am I Yang? With everything focused on Huntsmen and Huntresses, there are only two facilities on Remnant that train Armor pilots, and only one of those has enough of a reputation to be globally recognized. Those soldiers piloting the Bullheads? They came from Ironwood. Those protecting Vale's walls? Ironwood."

It was then that Pyrrha finally gathered enough of herself to cut in, though she was still green as she said, "Ironwood Academy produces so many successful Armor pilots because they are ingrained with the fact that they aren't as important as Hunters."

Yang stood from her seat and slammed her fists into the table. "_Not as important?"_ she snarled, "These are human lives we're talking about, and they're _not as important?!"_

"From a perfectly logical standpoint," Weiss said, "they aren't. It takes – on average – two to five years to train a soldier or an Armor pilot. It takes a _lifetime_ for a Hunter to accumulate enough experience to be successful. The amount of effort it takes to train a soldier is much less than that to train a Hunter. They protect the cities in our stead so that us Hunters don't have to be on call every second of our lives, plus they protect _us_ until we can do our part in pushing back the Grimm."

Yang fell back in her seat, completely gobsmacked. "So, what, they just throw their lives away?"

"Yes," Blake said.

There was a betrayed look on Yang's face as she faced her partner.

"But more than that," Blake continued, "because of where Ironwood is, most soldiers and Armor pilots are Faunus. And this is Atlas we're talking about. They don't have a chance to do anything else before they're shipped off to the boot camps or the Dust mines."

She spat the last part, and aimed a heated glare at Weiss.

Weiss sent one right back as she snapped, "Hey, my family has been successful for over five generations. My father's company has… always worked in a moral grey area. It may be deplorable, but if _that_ doesn't say something is working, then I don't know what does."

"I think it says that your family endorses, promotes, and runs on slavery."

With a growl, Weiss ran a hand over her face. "That-! That isn't the issue here. The issue is that walking _time bomb."_

Yang clenched her fists.

"So you go from calling her expendable to a time bomb?" Blake hissed, eyes narrowed.

Weiss snorted. "She's been trained specifically to be suicidal. You think that doesn't affect someone mentally? You think that since they're suddenly in an environment where they aren't exposed to that, they suddenly become better? The world doesn't work that way, and until she's out of here, she's a danger to us all."

At that, Yang shot from her seat, startling the two bickering teammates. "I think you two are missing the important issue here," she spat. "She's a _person_. You're making her out to be some kind of _monster_."

"And maybe she is!" Weiss shot back.

"Didn't you see the look on her face!? She was scared! She needs our help!" Yang shouted. By now her eyes had turned to a murderous red, blonde hair steaming, with half the cafeteria silent and watching the growing feud.

Pyrrha, who had been watching the arguing girls with concern, stood and raised her hands placatingly. "Look, this is getting heated. Why don't we take a moment and –"

"If you think she needs help then do what you want!" Weiss shouted, ignoring the Amazon, "But leave me out of it! I want nothing to do with that Faunus!"

"ARGH! You're such an _Ice Queen!"_ Yang snarled, and then raced out of the cafeteria after her sister. Blake followed her, but not before leveling a vindictive glare at the heiress.

With only Jaune and Pyrrha left at the table, Weiss sighed as she settled back into her seat, ready to let her mind relax in the relative quiet of the cafeteria. She brought a piece of greenery to her mouth-

"So, Snow Angel, it's just the two of us," Jaune said, shattering the peace that had just begun to settle.

"No, it's just you," Weiss huffed as she got up and walked away, abandoning her 'lunch' altogether. Jaune groaned, barely comforted as Pyrrha rubbed his shoulder.

-O-O-O-

#1

Deep in the heart of the Beacon plateau, a frail mouse Faunus was probing his way through a certain tank. He was alone in the oil-stained, smokey garage, and was perfectly at ease with the half-dozen machines of war around him. The massive double-barreled turret of an M1D4-T languished in the corner, waiting for a hull. An Atlesian Robotics-made GAH-42BS was disassembled and piled against the wall. The tool bench, having nearly every tool imaginable, was piled high with those same tools piled in a haphazard mess. Bits and pieces of machines covered the floor, and not one machine was untouched or not being worked on.

Except for one. It was similar to a vulture – short, cannon-equipped arms tucked in close and hunched to the ground, giving the operator easy access, with legs attached to where the shoulders would be. It stood by itself among the chaos, its grey, brown, and black camouflage paint still shiny and pristine.

The mechanic cursed as he clunked his head against a pipe, pulling himself out of the turret ring. Uncaring of the turret suspended only by chains above his head, he swiped a grease-covered hand against his coveralls as he eyed a small, innocuous pump in his hand. Circular with pipes extruding from both ends, it seemed harmless; however, this one part could ruin the entire tank if it failed.

He frowned as he looked inside one of the tubes, and gasped at how the grinding mechanism resembled little more than shredded steel with bits of a blue Dust crystal thrown in. Tossing the pump aside he dived back into the tank, pushing wires and tubes aside as he pulled himself through the crawlspace. Only his feet poked out of the machine when he brushed past the final pipe and reached the heart of the tank, a bulbous, basketball-sized Dust reactor that was connected to every single part of the machine by bolted-down tubes, hoses and wires. He came closer to it and fingered the port where he had removed the pump – while he had sealed it beforehand, preventing the reactor from bathing him in lethal Dust radiation, he was more interested in the port itself.

His fears were confirmed when he found an ugly crack at the edge of the port, threatening to spread further into the reactor.

"Oh dear," he muttered, and whispered an apology to whoever owned the tank called Grendel.

-O-O-O-

Connie let herself be pushed along by the rush of students, not paying attention to where she was going or even where she put her feet. Ignoring the bronze-haired boy when he shoved by her, she let her thoughts wander back to the cafeteria. When Ruby had brought up her school, she had instantly been back in its drab, monochrome halls. It had been nearly three months since she left that hell, shouldn't she at least be able to separate herself from it? Shaking her head, Connie didn't notice as the crowds began to thin into classrooms, and soon enough she was alone as she slunk along Beacon's halls.

Lost in thought as she was, she didn't notice as she turned down a dim hallway with only an elevator at the end. However, there was also a guard clad in dull grey body armor and a full-faced helmet not unlike Connie's, though the protruding respirator was replaced with a mouth grille. Though his stance was relaxed there was no denying that his weapon – a compact, bullpup-style rifle – was certainly deadly.

He waited until she was about ten feet away from him before he commanded, "Halt."

Connie snapped out of her daze with a jolt, and then caught herself at the sight of the man's armor. Her eyes hardened at the sight of the insignia on his left shoulder, then snapped her arm up in a three-fingered salute with her thumb, fore-and middle finger as she said, "Guardsman."

The man's helmet tilted to the side as if surprised before he gave a salute of his own and a short, six note whistle.

Connie bit back the trill that wanted to roll off her tongue. "Olly olly oxen free, all out in the free."

"We're all free," the man finished.

The man relaxed and propped his weapon against his shoulder. "Didn't expect to meet the Chosen One so soon, to be honest," he said, his tone light and with no small amount of sarcasm. He extended a hand and said, "Guardsman Hicks, 8th Infantry Battalion. Ironwood."

"Pilot Carlisle, 4th Armored Battalion. Ironwood," she responded, and took the man's hand. They shook briefly before stepping away, keeping a respectful distance as they met the other's eyes.

Without a word, Hicks pulled the magazine from his rifle and offered it to Connie butt first. Connie pulled her own weapon from under her skirt and cracked open the cylinder, pulling out the entire mechanism before offering the gun to the soldier. Wordlessly, they took the other's weapon and inspected it, looking for any signs of defect or wear, and only when they were both satisfied with the condition of the other's weapon they handed it back.

"It's good to see a friendly face," Connie said, snapping the cylinder back where it belonged.

Hicks nodded as he reloaded his rifle. "Yeah, same here. Though you probably have it worse off."

Connie tilted her head questioningly.

"I'm here at the elevator. You're _with _those brats all day," he said dismissively.

She stared at him with a blank expression.

"Anyway," the soldier continued, "This is the campus entrance to the VDF. I can't let you pass without authorization, I'm sure you understand."

Connie nodded curtly. "Understood. I would like to speak to your commanding officer, then."

As the two talked, they were unaware that they were being watched by a certain girl in a red hood. She peeked around the corner, straining to hear what they were saying. Originally, Ruby had meant to get to her next class early and have a few minutes to collect herself, but after seeing Connie shuffling her way through the hall she couldn't help but follow her. While eavesdropping wasn't something she normally did curiosity won over common sense, leaving her pressed against the wall like some kind of secret agent.

She giggled at the thought, imagining herself in a dapper tuxedo and a laser wristwatch.

"So. Whatcha doin'?"

Ruby squeaked, barely restraining herself from letting loose an all-out shriek at Yang's voice in her ear. She too was pressed against the wall and had a wide grin on her face, looking down at her sister and struggling to contain her mirth.

Though she gave a relieved sigh, Ruby still leveled the worst glare she could muster at her sister and whispered harshly, "Yang, don't scare me like that!"

"Aw, but how will I ever have any fun?"

"_Yang!"_

"Sorry, sorry," Yang said dismissively. She peeked around the corner above her sister as she asked, "So, what _are_ you doing?"

Both of them received a shock when a voice behind them said, "It seems like your sister is spying on someone."

Blake was leaning casually against the wall, thumbing through a book as though this were an everyday occurrence.

"Whoa! When'd you get here?" Yang demanded, a hand pressed against her pounding heart.

"I've been here, you just never noticed," Blake said.

She didn't even look up at them.

Ruby blew her bangs from her face, her fingers tingly as she peeked back around the corner. She was puzzled when the two figures handed over their weapons and began inspecting them. "Wait, what?"

Looking closer, it took her a moment to recognize the insignia on the soldier's shoulder but once she did she muttered, "Oh…"

"Is that guy her friend or something?" Yang asked, confused.

"Um… I think it's more like comrades," Ruby said. "I read on how the army trains its troops, and from day one they're told that the guy next to you is more important than your life."

"So… the handing over the guns thing…"

Blake snapped her book closed. "People often overlook things when they're familiar with them. If you give something for someone else to look at, they'll see things you don't."

Ruby watched on as the pair spoke to each other. It was cold, clinical – sure, they were familiar with each other, but in a business sort of way. She frowned.

"It's kinda sad, actually…" Yang said. Ruby looked at her over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. Even Blake looked at her partner with a questioning gaze. Yang looked to her sister. "I mean, she doesn't seem friendly with anyone… and it's not like you can really make friends in a place like Ironwood," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's _used_ to being alone."

"When someone's exposed to something for long enough, their mind becomes unable to do or think anything else," Blake explained again.

Silence came over them all.

Ruby suddenly grinned, and spun to face her teammates. "Guys! I just had a great idea!"

"Me too!" Yang said. "I'm gonna go get the firecrackers, meet me by the boy's bathroom!"

"No! No, not that!" Ruby said, frowning. "And I told you not to do that again!"

Blake eyed her partner. "Again?"

"Yup!" Yang said with an ever-widening grin. "I should tell you the story sometime, it was a _blast."_

"Yang…" Ruby groaned, and then gave up. "Anyway, I have a plan to help Connie. Get everyone to meet us in our dorm after class, I'll explain then."

Yang nodded. "Sure thing, sis. In the meantime…" she looked down at her watch, "in three, two, one… _now _we are officially late to class!"

Much to their dismay, or to Ruby and Blake's at least, the bell chose that moment to ring. Amid their panicked yells they sprinted off, desperate to get to class before the teacher did. If there was one thing worse than the ever self-appraising Professor Port's 'lectures,' it was his creative punishments for tardy students. To their credit, they burst into the room not even five seconds ahead of the teacher – his eyebrows raised at seeing them rush past, but he merely chuckled and said boisterously, "Wonderful, it's simply _wonderful_ to see huntresses in training put so much effort into avoiding my wrath!"

Nearly everyone in the room let out a collective groan.

-O-O-O-

Connie looked up at the sound of the bell, frowning slightly before realizing what it meant.

"And now you're late," Hicks said reproachfully, though he tried his hardest to hide his grin. "How could you just stand there talking to me when you need to get back to the brats?"

His poor attempt at humor was lost on Connie, who stared at him as she flicked her ear.

"Anyway, go, before the teacher gets too mad. There's a few you _don't_ want to leave waiting," Hicks advised.

Connie nodded. "Thank you," she said, before turning around and pulling the scroll from inside her jacket. She didn't wave back or notice Hicks say his own goodbye before she turned the corner, leaving him to stare, dumbfounded, at her back.

"What a weird Faunus," he said, and took off his helmet to rub his own dog ears. Unfortunately, being trapped beneath the helmet tended to make additional ears flakey – to anyone passing by, they would think that it had begun to snow.

Connie focused on the scroll in her hands, frowning as she tried to find the navigation app again. To be honest, she only found it the first time by accident. _Damn, what I wouldn't give to use something I actually recognize,_ she thought to herself. _Maybe this thing's compatible with the U-OS._

She kept tinkering with the device as she walked, not paying attention. It was no surprise when she suddenly shouldered right into someone, knocking the both of them off balance. Though she was deft enough to catch herself before she fell, the other wasn't so lucky and sprawled to the ground with a grunt and a curse.

"Watch where you're going! Wait – ah great, it's the _animal."_

Looking down at the derisive voice, Connie felt herself stiffen as none other than Cardin Winchester glared at her. He got to his feet, standing a head over her as he snarled, "I think you owe me something, _animal."_

Connie warily shifted her feet and blinked.

Her ear twitched.

"Owe you what?"

He suddenly snatched Connie by the front of her uniform and lifted her off her feet. Connie gasped and thrashed, trying to kick him, but was kept just out of reach of his gonads. Her fox yowled at the back of her mind, threatening to loose itself on the bully, but was just barely kept in check – still, Connie's eyes had a feral gleam to them as she snarled.

Cardin grinned evilly and pulled an arm back…

Connie saw a glint out of the corner of her eye, a sight that immediately calmed her raging instincts. "I wouldn't do that," she said, her voice once again calm and quiet.

Stopping himself mid-punch, if only to prolong the girl's suffering, Cardin sneered and asked, "And why would I _not_ want to?"

"Because the walls have eyes," Connie muttered, and nodded to the mostly hidden camera over Cardin's shoulder. It was a clever spot too, hidden in a shadow, and Connie wouldn't have spotted it if weren't for Cardin shaking her like a ragdoll.

Looking over his shoulder, Cardin growled and roughly threw the girl away from him, forcing her to stagger to keep herself on her feet. He promptly spun on his heel and stomped away.

She would have gladly turned around and gotten away from him, except she was fairly sure that her next class, one she was already late to, was in the West Wing and this was the only hall leading there. Grudgingly, Connie followed after Cardin, though she lagged a good twenty feet behind him as she continued playing with her Scroll. Apparently this annoyed him more than she thought, as she didn't take five steps before he turned and snapped, "Stop following me like a damn _dog."_

"My class is somewhere this way," Connie deadpanned.

Cardin rolled his eyes, not saying anything further before he continued walking.

After getting lost in the options menu, Connie let out a triumphant grunt when she finally found the navigation app again. Synchronized with the schedule Ozpin had uploaded onto it, the Scroll showed her that the class she was looking for was not even twenty feet down the hall. Unfortunately it was the same one that Cardin was heading for.

_Here we go._

Cardin ducked inside, and just as she came to it he sneered and slammed it shut in her face, locking it behind him. She frowned, flicking an ear as she tried the door.

True to form, it didn't open.

_At least he only locked the door, _she thought. Sighing to herself, Connie leaned against the opposite wall as she settled in to wait. There was a vent in the ceiling, making it possible for her to get to class another way, but why through the effort? Thus far she had been thoroughly unimpressed with Beacon.

There was a muffled bellowing inside the class, and after thirty seconds of it, Cardin opened the door with a pained, almost constipated expression on his face.

"_Come in," _he gritted out. Connie bit back a retort, something she did easily enough from years of practice as she schooled herself to a façade of passive calm. Not meeting Cardin's eyes, she walked through the door and was immediately confronted with the entire class staring at her. She froze, her fox begging to flee before she swallowed it down and trudged to the desks.

"Oh _ho, _not so fast!" a voice said as a gut wobbled in front of her. Connie stepped back and looked at the large man, who surely must have been a force to be reckoned with in his youth, but had gone to grey and an impressive six-pack had turned into an impressive gut.

Professor Port stood with hands on his hips, looking stern from behind his eyebrows as he said, "And where do you think you're going, Miss?"

Connie blinked, shuffling where she stood. "…My desk?"

"But you were late!" Port said loudly. "And a Huntress who is late must bear the consequences! On the field of battle, the enemy does not wait for the hero to arrive. No, in the three minutes you took to get here, a single Beowolf could have massacred an entire town!"

"But I'm not a Huntress," Connie said blandly.

"Therefore! You will be punished, along with Cardin Winchester!"

Cardin, who had been sneaking to his desk while Port was distracted, paused and shouted, "What?! Can't you just punish her?"

Port turned to the bully and drew himself up to his full height, standing a full head above Cardin. "It should apply double to you, Mister Winchester," he said, eerily calm. "It is Miss Carlisle's first day. You, however, have been here for weeks and have had more than enough time to learn your schedule."

He turned and strode to a large, drape-covered cage that was squatting in the corner. "So! As a much younger, strapping man I had the opportunity to acquire an exceedingly rare item. And 'rare' as in almost impossible to acquire and still have your life at the end of it!"

He grinned and winked at the class, who let out a collective groan – Yang, regretting sitting at the front once again, shuddered as she huddled deeper into her coat.

"But," he continued, "through sheer tenacity and skill as a Huntsman, I managed to get my hands on a single Creep egg!"

Murmurs swept through the class. Pyrrha, who sat with Nora and Ren in the middle level of desks, gaped at Port with shock and disbelief, as did Weiss in the front row. However, most students, like Jaune and Ruby, frowned, confused at what Port was even talking about.

Cardin rolled his eyes. "A _what,_ now?"

Port grinned and slammed his fist on the cage, making the beast inside screech and roar with primal fury. Connie recognized the call and shivered, knowing that it was crying out for any allies.

"As punishment, you and Miss Carlisle will fight the Creep! It will be a good demonstration for the class as it will be the next species of Grimm we will be studying, so be vigilant and watch closely!" Port shouted, and then made to grab his awkward blunderbuss off the wall.

Before he could do so, Pyrrha shot to her feet. "Professor Port, you can't be serious! The Creep is a low C rank Grimm, and you're going to let it loose inside the classroom?!"

Port grinned as he hefted the weapon in his arms. "Indeed!"

Cardin sneered. "Come on, if it's a Grimm I'll just kill it. The _animal_ doesn't even have to get involved."

Again, Port grinned. "This Grimm will be _much _more than you can handle, Mister Winchester. Both of you will be needed to bring it to its knees. However! Cardin, you will attack the Creep, and Miss Carlisle will not. I will be giving you detention if you don't allow Miss Carlisle to help, and I will give Miss Carlisle detention if she does."

Immediately panicked, Cardin scowled at Port and said, "Wait, what kind of test is this?! I need my weapon!"

"You will not always find yourself with that advantage!" Port bellowed, and slammed his axe on the lock to the cage.

-O-O-O-

The mouse Faunus shuffled through the halls of Beacon, a heavy limp on his left side. Muttering to himself as he fiddled with the odd pump in his hands, he strode to an elevator and waited for it to arrive. He continued to mutter even as he rode the metal death trap all the way to the top floor, to the Headmaster's office and its massive clunking gears. Taking a moment to admire the engineering marvel, the mouse strode forward and looked to the chair behind the glass desk that was facing the window.

"Professor Ozpin. Found something wrong."

The chair turned, and Ozpin looked at him with a calm gaze and a mug of coffee. "Yes, Felix? What is it?"

Felix wrung the pump in his hands before quickly striding forward and set it down with a loud clank. "Inline pump to M7A6-H tank. Very sturdy. Pulverizes Dust into dust so it can be used safely."

Ozpin nodded, taking the pump himself and turning it over in his hands. "Go on."

"Nonfunctional. Burnt out. Been that way for a year."

Another nod.

"Came from the girl's tank. Grendel, I believe."

At this, Ozpin froze and peered at the mouse from over his glasses. "Grendel?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Multiple stress fractures in the reacotr. Repairable, but one is fatal."

"Can it be fixed?"

"Mostly. Patch job at the most."

"See that it's done. I want a report on the damage and how long it has."

"Of course."

-O-O-O-

Connie couldn't believe it. A Huntsman, one who surely had much more knowledge and experience than any of them in the room, was about to unleash one of the most infamous Grimm on the class.

A class full of unarmed hunters-in-training who knew nothing about it.

_Someone please kill me. If people are this stupid, just kill me now._

Still, she kept her thoughts to herself.

#2

Port swung his axe, ignoring Cardin's panicked yells. The lock exploded in a shower of metal as the cage door burst open, the beast impatient as it lunged out with a feral scream. It was a bulky, two-legged reptilian Grimm, but what it lacked in forelegs it more than made up for with sheer muscles. Armor plates coated almost every bit of its skin, and its head the most heavily armored and protected from any attack. Crouching low, the beast gave another roaring cry.

Said roaring cry was ended with a painful croak when Connie drew her gun and fired, sending a slug of metal straight down its gullet.

"Miss Carlisle, where did you get that weapon?" Port bellowed. "Moreover, Cardin was the only one with authority to –"

Connie fired twice more, but the bullets simply splashed against the head crest. Having recovered, the Creep screamed and lunged at her, but was knocked back when Cardin rushed forward and punched the thing. With another roar the Grimm knocked Cardin away with a sweep of its head, giving it a moment to actually look around and see all the tasty humans packed in the room with it. Drool began to drip from its fangs as it turned to face the students.

Eyes widening, Connie fired a shot across its nose as her hand went to the hem of her skirt again. "Oi. Ugly."

Having gotten its attention once more, Connie strode forward as she pulled a grenade into view. She lobbed it and covered her eyes, waiting a beat before it exploded with a brilliant flash of light and a bang, dazing both the beast and the rest of the classroom. With the Creep knocked for a loop, she fired three more shots before the cylinder ran dry, pounding at its knees before she ripped out the spent plastic and slapped in a fresh cartridge.

Six more bullets were put into its knees.

Though the Creep stumbled, it didn't fall.

Connie slapped in her last cartridge and glared over to where Cardin was cowering behind Port's desk. "Winchester!"

Cardin flinched.

"Get your weapon!"

Frozen stiff, Cardin stared at the Creep with fear. Being thrown by the thing probably didn't do him much good.

Connie snapped him out of it by leveling her gun at him and put a bullet into the wall next to his head. "_Get your weapon!"_ she roared.

The gears finally seemed to clunk in the big lug's head, as he shot to his feet and raced out the door without looking back.

The Creep felt forgotten, and so it roared and lunged at Connie. She put a bullet in its foot and sidestepped, letting the beast fall to the ground as she skipped away from it. "Evacuate! _Now!"_

Many students looked worried, chief among them Pyrrha, Weiss, and even Yang, but no one moved.

Exasperated, she glanced at Port, who stood by with his weapon set on the ground like a cane. "Does this room have a suppression system?" she demanded.

Port nodded, an eyebrow raised. "Yes, I believe so."

"Activate it! Right now!"

Instead of moving, Port laughed – _laughed _– and crossed his arms. "But you seem to have the beast well handled, don't you?"

"_Activate it, you fool!"_ Connie screamed, and looked to the Creep as it got back to its feet. She fired again and again and again, each bullet squashing against the armor without penetrating. Annoyed by the harsh impacts the beast screeched and lunged at Connie, who had to leap to the side to keep from having a bite taken out of her.

It was then her luck finally ran out. Her foot slipped during the landing, the tile too polished to support her properly and sending her sprawling painfully on her side as her gun flew from her grasp. Wide eyes watched it fall, and when it hit the ground she gasped and scrambled on all fours to get to where it lay only a few feet from her.

The class was hushed when the Creep stepped in front of her, making her freeze as it leered down at her with dripping fangs. Connie felt a cold thrill run through her, breath caught in her throat as she glared at the menace. If nothing else, then she'd be a distraction for the students to evacuate.

"Fine. Eat me," she muttered.

The Creep roared in triumph.

"Eat me!"

It made to do so, lunging forward with an eager screech.

The screech turned into a squawk when Yang flew at the Grimm, eyes glowing red and her hair giving off steam and tongues of flame. She beat at it with her bare fists as she let out a feral scream, pounding it with floor-shaking blows that cracked its armor and sent teeth and bone fragments flying. She drove it back, throwing out a left cross, right, and left again as the temperature in the room rose, and finished with a brutal uppercut that sent sending the Creep headfirst into the ceiling and made the entire room rattle.

Yang flexed her shoulders, glaring at the Grimm as it dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. "Piss off! You're not touching her!"

Connie, who had been staring awestruck at the spectacle, froze at the blonde's it out of her mind, she staggered to her feet and stooped to grab her pistol, ignoring Yang as she came to her.

"Hey, you okay?" Yang asked, her voice gentle as she reached out to grab Connie's shoulder.

Connie shied away. "I'm fine," she said, and walked over to the broken, sprawled form of the Creep. It whined pitifully, not meeting Connie's eyes as she used her foot to flip its head over and took aim at the bottom of its unarmored jaw. She didn't say a word as she fired her last bullet in its brain, finally penetrating the soft tissue.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Port cried out. "Excellent use of your surroundings! Though Miss Xiao Long wasn't supposed to participate, she did much to –"

"_Enough,"_ Connie growled, rounding on the teacher. "You are the most irresponsible Huntsman I've ever met. You released a _Creep_ in a classroom full of unarmed civilians."

Port was confused, and frowned. "What in heaven's name are you –"

"And more than that," Connie continued, "what were you thinking, siccing that thing on the class while it was unarmed?"

Drawing himself up to his full height, Port puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips. "I wouldn't have done that if I knew you couldn't handle it! A Huntress that can't handle a mere Creep has no right to be a Huntress!"

"_I'm not a Huntress,"_ Connie growled. "I'm a fully licensed and certified Armor pilot. It's my duty to see each of these Hunters lives to see their potential, and you put _each and every one of them_ in jeopardy."

She was annoyed, no, _furious _that a veteran Hunter could be so thoughtless, and silence ensued as she leveled her darkest glare at the man. Yang stood in the background, frowning and unsure that to do. Ruby was focusing on trying to make herself as small and quiet as possible, while Blake and Weiss looked on with bland expressions. Nora had no clue what was happening, the same as Jaune.

Pyrrha and Ren exchanged a look.

"Where do you get off, saying that _we_ need to be protected?! You're the one that nearly got eaten!" a student yelled.

"Did _you_ know where the Creep's weak point was?" Connie asked, her dark glare still leveled at Port. The student fell silent. "Did _you_ know where its center of balance was?"

"N-no –"

"Then you can criticize me once you do."

She turned away from Port.

"You should begin class, Professor."

Without another word she walked to an abandoned desk at the back of the room. She was careful to keep her face blank and leave nothing to hint at what her thoughts were, though her flattened ears betrayed her anxiety. Once she finally – _finally_ – settled and Port began his lecture, she buried her face in her hands.

_Of all the stupid, thoughtless, _amateur _things you could have done, you berate the teacher?! What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?_

There was a thud beside her, and she stopped her self-scolding to see that the red hooded girl, Ruby, had set herself down at her desk. "Hey," she said.

Connie eyed her before she gave a slight nod and looked back down to Port. Inwardly, she was confused. Even from here she could see the girl's team frantically gesturing for her to come back. If it was all the same to her, she'd rather be alone… just what was the younger girl playing at?

"That was really cool," Ruby said. "I didn't know that Grimm armor could stand up to that many shots."

"…"

Flustered by the Connie's silence, Ruby stammered out, "B-but if you don't want to talk about it that's… fine… ugh…"

She let her head fall into her hands, hiding her blushing face from view. Connie looked at her, half-confused, and half-charmed by the girl's obvious awkwardness. It was different from the usual stony looks and apathetic comments she was so used to getting. It wasn't enough for Connie to relax around the girl, but she felt compelled to offer at least some sort of relief.

"You'd never seen one before," she said in a quiet, monotonous voice.

Ruby blinked, looked at her, and smiled.

It was then that Cardin hurled himself into the room, ducking into a combat roll before coming up with his mace raised and ready to crush some skulls. He promptly tripped over the evaporating Creep corpse and onto his face.

"Ah, Mister Winchester!" Port said, stopping mid-lecture. "How nice of you to join us once again!"

Cardin got to his feet and gave the beast a vicious kick. "What, it's over already? Don't tell me it ate the Faunus, 'cause that would be _terrible._"

Port laughed, hand pressed against his wobbling pot belly. "On the contrary, Mister Winchester, Miss Carlisle is very much alive, and despite being underequipped proved herself instrumental against the Creep!"

With a frown, Connie pulled her revolver out of its thigh holster. Sure, it was bulky and maybe a little outdated, but… underequipped?

"You, on the other hand," Port bellowed, pointing at Cardin, "fled in the face of the enemy!"

The bully looked like he'd been slapped. "But she told me to get told me to get my weapon!" he shouted, hefting his mace.

"That is no excuse! If this had been a room full of defenseless people, the Creep would have turned this room into a bloodbath while you were arming yourself!" Port reprimanded, a stern glint in his eyes. "You will therefore join me in detention after class! I will need your help to move my many journals of my heroic past exploits."

Chatter filled the room now that the drama was over, leaving Cardin to stand at the front of the class. He felt their eyes on him, heard their scathing mutters _about him_. He felt humiliated, a cold ball in his gut that threatened to drag him down to melt into the floor. It quickly turned to a red-hot pit of rage, and he lifted his head to glare at the damned fox that put him in this position. He was quiet as he strode to his sniggering teammates, who quickly quieted as he came close.

It didn't matter. None of them mattered. Because he would show her what happened when a Winchester was humiliated.

-O-O-O-

_She stared at the wall, sitting on the hard, uncomfortable bench and wishing she were anywhere but the sick-smelling hospital. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried, and Mommy always said that it was bad to lie. One minute she'd been at school, happily drawing during recess, and the next these big black cars came and whisked her away here. The last thing she'd seen of Mrs. Lockley was her tearful and worried glance at her as the car doors shut._

_She stared at the wall._

_Things had been really weird at home, too. They'd kept getting letters in the mail from the same place – they must have worried Mommy and Daddy too, because she'd heard them arguing when they thought she was asleep._

_She stared at the wall._

_When a tired looking doctor came to her, she stared. When he told her that her parents been in an accident, she stared. And finally, when he told her that he hadn't been able to help them and that they wouldn't wake up anymore, she stared._

_That had been hours ago. She stared at the wall, heedless of her burning eyes or the liquid that wouldn't stop streaming from them. _


	10. Chapter Nine: Needless?

_Sorry about the late post, guys. Life happens... in this case, life happened with bamboo hackin' and kitten savin', but I managed to remember to post. Hooray!_

_Now, I've been getting questions as to why Weiss is acting the way she is. There is a good reason - this is still before she loosens up at the end of the first season. She still hates Faunus. She still has a ten meter pole rammed up her backside. So she's a bit of a bitch at the moment. That will change._

_Still, thanks for caring enough about this story to ask. Cheers._

* * *

The next week was hectic. Connie already had her hands full between her classes and homework, but counting in random challenges from the other students as well? She was a girl used to schedules. She enjoyed the comforts of everyday routine, security of the familiar, and the tranquility of repetition. The randomness of Beacon was playing havoc on her nerves – just yesterday, Cardin had launched Jaune in one of the school's rocket propelled lockers, resulting in him crashing down right at the edge of the Emerald Forest. The forest wasn't far away, but that wasn't the point.

It took every ounce of willpower Connie had not to shoot Cardin's smug face herself.

Of course, it didn't help matters that she hadn't seen her tank since Initiation. The VDF commander, a broad fellow named Anton Zurich, had all but refused to meet with her, preventing her from seeing the state her tank was in. It was eating away at her, not knowing.

…Maybe she was just worried.

She was currently doodling in her notebook as she waited in the stands of the sparring room, Team RWBY on one side of her and JNPR on the other, minus Jaune. Another source of her frazzled nerves was the fact that they tried to include her in every… single… _thing! _She couldn't even go to the bathroom without one of them asking where she was going! Connie had the sense that they wanted to talk to her about something – what that something was, she couldn't care less. Prior experience had told her that when someone needed to talk to you alone, it was either for… _that…_ or they needed someone for target practice. Sometimes both. Luckily, it was only during the school day - she always managed to get out of her room early enough to avoid being accosted by them, and came back from the firing range at night after they were all asleep.

At least, she thought so. One time she thought she saw amber eyes peeking at her from outside her window, hidden by the leafy branches of the tree outside, but when she had taken another look they were gone.

…Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to her, too.

On one hand, it was easy for her to shove her emotions aside and lock them away, then chain the box shut, coat it with cement, and throw it into the ocean. On the other hand, it was hard for her to speak civilly to these _children_ and not plant a bullet somewhere in them, on them, around them or through them. They were so utterly _young_ that it made her sick to be the same age as them.

Then again, it was… _pleasant_ to be able to walk down the hall and only get looks that varied between disgust, pity, and friendliness, though thankfully the two former were rare.

Who was she kidding? This place confused the hell out of her.

The spar between Cardin Winchester and Jaune Arc had been going on for some time now, if only because Cardin recognized his foe's weakness and wanted to play with him. Jaune still had that determined glare about him as he swung his sword enthusiastically at the bully, only for it to be caught on the shaft of his opponent's mace before being flung back. As enthusiastic as the boy was, it didn't make up for him being so utterly exhausted, as he was now leaning on his sword with his aura reserves well in the yellow zone.

It didn't seem like a fair fight, in Connie's opinion. She herself could fight better than the boy in close combat, and she was no expert. His stance was wrong – nonexistent, really – and he was blindly swinging his sword so widely that even a civilian could see it. For a student accepted into Beacon, it seemed like he had only just begun to train with a blade.

Jaune gathered himself and charged, letting out a reckless yell, only for Cardin to sidestep him easily. The blonde didn't even have time to blink before Cardin swung the mace into his side, sending Jaune flying one way and his shield in another, the sound of the impact making even Yang cringe. Miraculously, Jaune got to his foot once more and charged at Cardin, locking weapons with the bigger, stronger teenager.

A moment passed as the two spoke, though Connie was too far away to hear anything. Cardin cut Jaune off mid-sentence with a knee just above the groin, dropping Jaune like a rock and putting his Aura into the red.

Connie's eyes narrowed. She'd seen that move many times before in Ironwood – duel rules specifically stated no attacks to sensitive areas, especially the armpits, groin, and neck, and while an almost-groin shot wasn't technically an attack on those areas, it was still close enough to throw the human body for a loop. At the very least, now that Jaune's Aura had dipped into the red the match was over and the blond could collect himself.

There was a malicious grin on Cardin's face as he glanced at the board and raised his mace high above his head, weapon trembling as he pushed all the Aura he could into it. Connie felt herself go cold with alarm – with that much Aura, Cardin could literally drive Jaune into his own crater, killing him easily.

No one else seemed to sense the impending doom.

Cardin sneered, but before he could swing a buzzer sounded and lights lit up the dueling area.

"Cardin, that's enough," Goodwitch scolded, striding onto the dais. Cardin scowled, but lowered his weapon and turned away, reabsorbing his rampant Aura. Jaune could do nothing but lay there and try to catch his breath, gasping in pain all the while.

Ignoring his discomfort, Glynda tapped at her Scroll and said, "Students, as you can see, Mister Arc's Aura has now dropped into the red. In a tournament-style duel, this would indicate that Jaune is no longer fit for battle and the official can call the match."

She sighed. "Mister Arc, it's been weeks now," she said sternly, leveling a steady glare at the boy. "_Please _try to refer to your Scroll during combat. Gauging your Aura will help you to decide whether it is appropriate to attack, or when it is better to move to a more… _defensive_ strategy."

As she spoke, Jaune pulled his Scroll from a back pocket, looking forlorn as he watched his Aura gauge bleep angrily at him.

Uncaring that she was kicking him while he was down, Glynda pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she said condescendingly, "We wouldn't want you to get gobbled up by a Beowolf, now would we?"

Connie closed her eyes. Now _that_ tone she remembered well – false concern masking scorn was something she was familiar with. Too much so. With a sigh, she packed her battered leather book bag, stood, and made to leave the auditorium.

"W-wait, Connie, where are you going?"

She looked back to see the dejected face of Ruby, who had elected to sit by her in the farthest, darkest corner of the stands. To be honest, the hooded girl was always at the forefront of the attempts to include her. Though she had to admire Ruby's determination, Connie could see right through the girl's façade of naiveté and innocence – more than enough experience taught her that above all else, it was the innocent ones you had to watch for.

With a huff, she turned away and muttered, "It has nothing to do with you."

Everyone except Connie saw Ruby's crestfallen expression as the girl disappeared through the doors.

Though she perked up at the mention of the approaching Vytal Festival, Ruby quickly sobered once she and her team had filed back out into the mostly empty hall.

"Don't worry Sis," Yang said reassuringly, wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulder. "She'll come around. She's just… had a hard life."

Weiss sighed. "Why are you trying so hard? It's obvious she doesn't want to have anything to do with us – if she's so adamant on pushing everyone away, just let her wallow in her own misery."

"But I can't do that, Weiss," Ruby said, slouching dejectedly as she walked.

"And why not?" Weiss stepped forward and spun on her heel to face her partner, leaning her weight on one hip as she crossed her arms.

Forced to stop, Ruby looked uncomfortable as she glanced anywhere except Weiss. "U-um, what do you mean?"

"She's not your friend," Weiss continued, pointing her finger in Ruby's face. "And she's not your ally. All she's shown us so far are her suicidal tendencies and her abusive anti-social issues. Why in the name of Dust would you even _want _to associate yourself with someone like that? What makes you think a Faunus like that is even worth your time?"

"Geez, Weiss, tell us how you really feel…" Yang muttered, scratching the back of her head.

Ruby shrank into her hood as she wrung her hands. "I just… I don't think she's a bad person, okay? I don't want her to be alone; I know what it's like."

Weiss was somewhat shocked at the muted tone in the normally-energetic girl's voice, enough so that when Ruby drew up her hood and walked by, she didn't stop her. When she gathered herself she made to say something more, but was stopped when Yang gripped her shoulder and shook her head.

"Don't. Ruby knows what she's doing," she said evenly. Her tone brokered no argument, and yet Weiss slapped Yang's hand away.

"She obviously _doesn't_ know what she's doing if she's wants to make _friends_ with that Faunus," Weiss shot back.

Much to Weiss' surprise, Yang's eyes flashed red and she gripped the heiress' arm _hard,_ enough to make the girl hiss in pain. "Listen, Weiss. You're her partner - she's _your_ teammate - and what you're doing is _not_ what partners do, let alone friends. I'm not going to go into why she is the way she is, that's her decision to tell you. But if you don't lay off her, I'm throwing you out the window."

"Wh-what? How _dare _you!"

"How dare _me? _For once in your life, stop being such an Ice Queen and think about what someone _else_ is going through!" Yang hissed. She then turned angrily on her heel to follow her sister, leaving Weiss to stand with a confused, dumbfounded expression.

It was Blake that snapped her out of her daze. "Come on, it's time for lunch," she said. Quietly leaving her behind, the black-haired girl offered no comforting words for the heiress. Weiss could only sigh in exasperation as she too followed, wanting nothing more than to forcibly knock some sense into her partner.

Though Ruby would collect herself by the time they got to the cafeteria, Weiss could still see the pain in her partner's eyes every time she looked at her. It left a bad taste in her mouth, as well as an ugly pulling on her conscience.

-O-O-O-

Connie trudged down the hall to Port's lecture hall – her next class, to be exact. As she had well over half an hour before it started, she could afford to take her time, and though she knew she would regret skipping lunch by the end of the day she wanted time to herself so she could think things through. The halls were blissfully empty as she looked out the window, slowly putting one foot in front of the other as she watched the world go by.

She'd spent a full week in this Beacon. It was calm and peaceful, despite her confusion and aggravations with the place. But all the peace in the world couldn't hide the fact that she didn't _belong._ In Ironwood, she'd known who and what she was. Here… she was lost.

#1

"Ah! What a pleasant surprise, Miss Carlisle!" a voice boomed behind her, startling her out of her thoughts.

That same voice sent a wave of irritation through her.

Professor Port, looking jovial as always, strode along behind Connie, a bulging bag strapped across his shoulder that he handled with ease. The tips of his moustache were tilted up in a smile as Connie turned to face him, snapping her arm up in a salute.

"Good afternoon, Professor," she said in a curt tone. Her irritation towards the man hadn't faded in the slightest, though Port either didn't notice, didn't care, or was too inflated on his own ego to notice _or_ care.

It was probably the last.

"No need to be so formal with me, child! Please, call me Peter!"

Connie made a face like she'd just sucked on a lemon. "…Professor Peter."

Port barked out another laugh. "Then you may simply call me what you like, Miss Carlisle!"

"Don't."

Pausing at Connie's clipped tone, Port looked to the frowning girl with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't… call me Miss Carlisle. I… I _really_ hate being called that," Connie gritted out, struggling to find the right words.

Instead of a sneer like Connie expected, Port smiled – or she guessed that he smiled, judged by how his 'stache twitched – and clapped the girl on the shoulder, making her wince and shy away. "Very well, Miss Constance," he boomed. "But why aren't you in the cafeteria? It's lunchtime, shouldn't you be with Team RWBY?"

At this, Connie frowned and spun on her heel to walk away. "Is there a specific reason why I should be eating with them?" she asked quietly.

Port, undeterred, strode alongside her. "You are friends with them, are you not?"

"Why would you assume that?" she asked. Her tone was bitter, and she glared at the floor as she continued, "It's not necessary for me to socialize with them to do my job."

Before she could take another step Port turned in front of her, becoming a living wall to block her path. Gone was his friendly demeanor and warm smile, replaced instead with a serious glint in his eyes. "I didn't ask whether or not you were able to perform your duties Miss Constance, I asked why you weren't with your friends," he stated, his voice low and giving no quarter.

Connie flinched under his gaze, bowing her head with flattened ears. "I-I apologize, sir. I spoke out of line," she said, tone respectful as she quietly reprimanded herself for back-talking a superior office.

Before she could continue, Port sighed and placed meaty hands on her shoulders, ushering her along. "Constance," he said in a kindly voice, "I cannot claim to know you after a week of you coming to my lectures. But I see someone who's struggled for her place in the world, even when that place wasn't for her."

#2

They reached Port's classroom, where he opened the door for and allowed her to enter first. Following, he continued, "You are an honorable person that pushes everyone away for fear of the possibility of losing the few you do have. But when you push away even the _chance_ to get closer to people, who will mourn _you?_ Who will _you_ have to worry about you, and be willing to share the deepest parts of their life with you? And what of the people that you hurt who wish to know you in turn?"

Connie, who had been listening silently, frowned and set her bag on the nearest desk. "Professor Port," she said, turning to the man, "I have no need for extraneous relationships. I am an Armor pilot. My duty is to be a shield, follow the orders of my superior, and fall if necessary. I am an instrument ready to be used. By your reasoning, I need to be close to the people I am protecting, but where, may I ask, does socializing with my charges come to be necessary for me to perform my duties?"

Port was silent, instead turning to slowly unpack his own bag. Piles of worksheets and notes quickly filled the desk, followed lastly by a single apple which had somehow managed to keep from being crushed. Just when Connie thought she had won the argument, Port turned to her with a level gaze, one she recognized well. She snapped upright, her arms stiff at her sides in attention.

"Pilot Carlisle!" Port bellowed. Just like that of a commander.

"Sir!"

"Draw your weapon!"

Connie pulled her Maverick from under her skirt without a moment's hesitation, holding it out to the side.

"Now, aim that weapon at my chest and fire!"

Connie's arm moved on instinct before it stopped, not quite pointed at Port's chest but to the wall beside him. Her eyes were wide, and her nostrils flared as her fox ears twitched in alarm. At seeing her hesitation, Port smiled and strode over to the girl.

"Do you see?" he asked. "That hesitation would not be there if you were a mindless instrument. That hesitation allowed you to escape Ironwood Academy's brainwashing. If you were truly as you say, a mere instrument, then you would have shot me without a second thought. So tell me then, if you are mindless, what brought you to the decision to leave the Ironwood military?"

Connie was still frozen. _Why did I leave the military? I-I wanted… no, I _needed…

"You left because you saw yourself as something more, Constance," Port said soothingly, and gently wrapped his massive mitt of a hand around the barrel of her gun before prying it away. "You survived five years of Ironwood's training with your mind intact. No easy feat, to be sure. I endured several years of it myself, and believe me, that place has not grown any less harsh. And you wandered, searching for a place to belong."

Port clapped his free hand on Connie's shoulder, and her eyes met his with a shaky, fear-filled gaze. "Beacon Academy can be that place if you let it."

It was then that the bell rang, signaling for classes to start. Already hearing the stampede of students approaching, dozens of shoes clapping on linoleum, Port gave her a warm smile and said, "Think about it."

He offered the gun back to her, and she took it with shaky fingers before stumbling over to her bag and heaved the thing onto her shoulders. While she staggered to her lone desk in the far corner, Port nodded to the door where Glynda had been waiting and ready to spring into action, ready to prevent his death if anything happened outside of Ozpin's predictions. It was reckless of Ozpin and even more reckless of Port – Glynda was just as irritated as when she'd heard about the plan, and though the blonde professor gave Port a stern glare, she also gave him a nod and disappeared just as the door to the class banged open. Connie collapsed in her seat as students filed in, taking their places amid mindless chatter. Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang came in last, the red-hooded girl looking around before spotting Connie. She brightened with a wide grin and a wave. Connie, meanwhile, was still dazed from Port's words as Ruby sat in the seat next to her.

"Hey, we didn't see you at lunch. Are you okay?" Ruby asked.

Connie flinched. Her fox ears granted near-superhuman hearing, able to detect sounds that were far outside ordinary human range. She could hear the individual tones that a voice made, letting her know if a person was sad, happy, angry, or even outright lying by voice alone. It was a trait that many Faunus shared, one that saved countless lives over the centuries.

And Ruby had nothing but sincerity in her voice. Even her human ears could hear it.

Swallowing thickly, Connie nodded and said, "Y-yes, I am. I wasn't hungry."

Yang, who had seen the display, smiled before grabbing her own bag and climbing the stairs. "Hey, Sis!" she greeted, flopping into the seat next to her sister.

"Yang! You don't have to!" Ruby protested, though it was with a smile.

"Aw, and leave my favorite baby sister? No way!" Yang said with a grin, playfully wrapping her arm around her sister's neck and pulling her in close.

"_I'm your only baby sister,"_ Ruby gargled out.

Blake rolled her eyes, smiling as she packed her bag and moved to Connie's desk, gracefully sliding into the seat next to Yang. "Hello again," she said, giving Connie a nod.

Connie could do nothing but stare at the girls. Her brain had quite literally crashed.

Meanwhile, Weiss was in her seat, scowling at being abandoned by her teammates. She hated this. She hated being forced into a corner, a tactic that her father used all the time. Clenching her fists, Weiss struggled to find a solution that would allow her to make amends to her partner and still retain her pride. Currently, she found none.

_Damn all the Dust in the world…_

She swiftly packed her things, scowling as she strode to last seat beside Blake. Ruby gave her a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Weiss," Ruby said quietly, as Port had begun to trail off into one of his lectures.

"You're a dunce. If I left you to your own devices you'd find some way to convert that girl into a cookie-gobbling, hyperactive loon," Weiss snarked. A moment passed, and an ever so slight smile lit the heiress's face. "Besides, I told you I would be the best teammate you would ever have, didn't I?"

It merely earned a giggle from Ruby, as her partner lacked the venom and vitriol that the Schnee heiress would normally use to tear into her victims. "Yep, you did," Ruby replied, smiling herself.

A second later, Weiss reached over Blake, Yang and Ruby to point a finger in Connie's face, making her lean back in shock.

"By no means does this make us friends," Weiss said, staring the fox girl down.

Connie nodded. "Yes, ma'am," she said, though she was inwardly grateful for being snapped out of her trailing thoughts. Though as Port's mindless lectures were liable to do, most students began to do anything humanly possible to avoiding listening to him, Connie included. However, instead of doodling or whispering to her neighbor, she thought about Port's words.

_Is he right? My training tells me I should ignore him and just follow orders, but what are they supposed to be? Should I just follow my training? Or can I…_

She looked to the four girls sitting beside her.

…_Can I actually let myself get close?_

-O-O-O-

"So what is the prognosis, Felix?" Ozpin asked. He was down in the VDF garage, Felix's domain, unaffected by the pungent smell of grease and sight of the discarded parts around him.

The little mouse Faunus, with his coveralls and shirt covered with smears of oil, looked up from where he was kneeling on the bottom half of Grendel and removed goggles that comically magnified the size of his eyes. Absently wiping his forehead and smearing black across it, Felix flopped back on his rear.

"Ah, Professor Ozpin. Convenient you arrived. Just finished," he said quickly.

If Ozpin was bothered by the man's clipped sentences, he didn't show it.

"Applied ferrosteel to fracture," Felix continued, not missing a beat. "Will hold. Will not under stress, however. Took liberty of removing the dampener override. Girl was out of her mind when installing it. Must talk to her."

Ozpin nodded. "That issue is being addressed as we speak. With any luck our wayward pilot is being shown the errors of her current way of life."

Not giving any indication that the mouse was even listening, Felix muttered to himself, "Quite ingenious. Girl installed dust capacitors to increase burst fire rate. Added sensor array from a military Bullhead, boosted range by several kilometers. Very effective scout. Possible role as command vehicle. Knowledge of machinery is rudimentary, but effective. Who is the pilot? I'd like to meet her."

At this, Ozpin smiled. "The pilot's name is Constance Carlisle."

Felix nodded. "I see, Constance Carli-_CARLISLE?!"_

Shooting upright, Felix promptly tripped and fell off Grendel in a loud crash of falling parts. He was standing before Ozpin barely a second later, eyes manic and ineffectually clutching at the man's front as he snarled, "_Carlisle?! _Daughter of Eduard Carlisle and Tania DeWitt?"

Ozpin nodded.

"You are aware of her situation, yes?"

Another nod. "One of the few who know the true story."

"Did it influence your decision to let her attend? Would explain strange exception. No Armor pilot has ever been accepted into a Hunter academy," Felix rambled.

At this, Ozpin shook his head and laid a hand on the distraught man's shoulder. "Her unfortunate history is not what influenced me, but rather her abilities. She is exactly what I was looking for."

"And what _were _you looking for?"

Ozpin sighed. "A small, honest soul that needed a chance to grow, Felix. She is what we needed when we needed it. We are coming toward hard times, and while I regret being forced to use my old friend's daughter, she will give my students a new perspective on our world. One that will allow us to fight the coming storms."

Finally, Felix lost the hard glint in his eyes and released the grey-haired headmaster. He took a breath, pinching his nose before he looked to Ozpin with surprising lucidity. "And if she finds out just how much you're keeping from her? What then?"

"Then I will tell her the full story."

"And the Directors? What if they come for her? We both know they're greedy enough bastards to pursue her. We only know who two of them are for sure."

"…Only she will be able to make that decision," Ozpin said, taking a moment to take a large gulp of brandy-laced espresso from his mug. "I can only pray that she makes the right one."


	11. Chapter Ten: Firing Squad

_Right... so, I just kept adding on to this chapter. It went through about six different versions. I'm still not happy with it, but screw it. If I don't post it, it'll never get out. I'm also at the last of my collection of edited chapters, so from now on wording and grammar might be a little... clunky._

_Anyways, I have to give props to a couple people. There are a couple weapon designs in the later half of this chapter that I appropriated. Not to say I stole them, I'm just borrowing without permission. But, to make up for this I've given them honorable mentions in the chapter itself. They're on Deviantart if you want to give them a look, they do fantastic work._

_Also, this is the beginning of the 6000+ word chapters. This'll be the norm unless you guys want it otherwise._

_Cheers._

* * *

LATER THAT EVENING

"So, we all know the plan?"

"Of _course _we do, Ruby. We've gone over it three times!"

"Hey, let Rubes talk. No commentary from the peanut gallery, Snow Angel."

"Wha- peanut gallery?!"

"You should _all_ quiet down. The way you're going about it _everyone on the floor_ is going to know what we're up to."

"But, Blake! Th-that's the point! It's so overt, it's covert…"

"…"

"Eh-heh heh, yeah, that was bad…"

Ruby sheepishly rubbed the back of her head, regretting the pun the moment it left her mouth. Standing inside their dorm room – though _standing_ was a loose term – Ruby, Weiss and Yang huddled by the door, waiting for a certain someone to walk by. Blake watched them from her bed, an amused smirk on her face as she cradled a book in her hands. With a groan, Weiss let her head rest against the wall with a dull clunk.

"Why on Remnant are we doing this? This is ridiculous!" she complained.

"Weiss, you promised you'd at least try to give her a chance," Ruby said quietly, the tiniest of frowns on her face.

Weiss immediately crumbled. "I'm-! Ugh… Ruby, I said I'll _try,_ but I can't promise anything. I just can't trust her."

Though the hurt never quite left her face, it lessened as Ruby nodded.

With a wide grin, Yang cooed, "Aw, you two are so _cute!_ Blakey, don't you think these two are cute together?"

The blush was immediate on both Ruby's and Weiss' face. Though Ruby could do nothing but babble with a flaming red face, Weiss managed to stammer, "You-you depraved dunce! Does your debauchery know no bounds?"

"Nope!"

"Blake! Control your partner!"

"But where would the fun in that be?" Blake deadpanned, her eyes twinkling in mirth.

Weiss stood there for a long moment, only for her to bring a hand up to cradle her forehead. "I'm surrounded by fools…"

Heaving a massive sigh, Weiss turned to the folding table they had borrowed from Professor Goodwitch. Why a woman of such a standing as her had such a tacky item boggled her mind, though Weiss couldn't very well judge a professional Huntress who'd been saving the world since before she was born. On it was food for the person they were waiting for, with additions from each of them – a bowl of fruit from Weiss, tuna from Blake, a plate of cookies from Ruby, and some sort of creamy red drink that Yang concocted herself.

Weiss, for one, had no intention of letting _anyone_ drink it, not when it smelled like it had enough booze to knock out a Goliath.

And the centerpiece, finishing the eclectic collection of food around it, was a large pepperoni pizza from the best pizzeria in Vale. Each of them had restrained themselves from grabbing a slice, though as the smell permeated throughout the room it was getting more and more difficult. All of this, from the food to the reason why they were waiting up in the first place, was because of Ruby and her desire to get Connie to open up to them. If it were up to Weiss, she would stay as far away from the Faunus as she could, not only because of her suicidal training but because of her behavior – she was duplicitous, showing a façade of calm and professionalism to the teachers, yet veiled scorn and disdain for most everyone else. She didn't understand it, and didn't _want _to understand it.

Yang, who had been the only one to really pay attention, shushed them all before they could start getting louder. "Guys, I hear her! Quick, get ready!"

True to form, Ruby tripped over Weiss' feet and Weiss over Ruby's, sending both of them tumbling to the floor. They scrambled to untangle themselves as Blake watched on with an eyebrow quirked in amusement before Weiss was able to take her place by Ruby's Bunk Bed of Doom, and Ruby straightened out her night shirt as she stood in front of the table, hiding it from view. Yang waited a moment, listening to the footsteps out in the halls before she flung the door open.

"Surpri – !" They all cried out, only to trail off as they only saw Jaune. He looked at them all in confusion, eyes wide and frozen mid-step. Worst of all was that he was dressed in his onesie, heading back from the bathroom and ready for bed.

"U-uh… hi?" he said nervously. "This uh, this wouldn't be about Weiss declaring her undying love for me, would it?"

"…_No_," Weiss spat.

Jaune sighed. "I suppose not, though- oh, _wow_…"

Much to all of their irritation, Jaune wandered into their dorm practically drooling. "Is... _is that a Primavera Vale pizza I smell?"_

Ruby nervously scratched the back of her head, not noticing her sister wave her hand in warning as she said uncertainly, "Um… yes?"

"_GIMME!"_

Jaune practically launched himself at her, eyes wide and desperate in his effort to get at the heavenly flatbread behind her. Yang had to grab him by the neck of his onesie and throw the crazed boy off her sister before Pyrrha heard the commotion from across the hall and came to get her teammate. She was lecturing Jaune even as she dragged him across the hall, and somehow, none of them envied the fate that awaited Jaune as his screams grew ever-fainter after Team JNPR's door slammed shut.

"Well…" Yang muttered as soon as the door slammed shut, "that was different." She shook her head as she vaulted up into her bed, paying no mind to how dangerously it swayed on its stilts of books.

"That was _creepy_," Ruby muttered, wringing her hands.

"_That_," Weiss said matter-of-factly, "is why he will never, ever,_ ever_ get a girlfriend."

"Did you expect anything less?" Blake remarked with a smirk before turning to the next page.

No one had a response.

Ruby moaned, rubbing the back of her head as she walked over to close the door. "Sorry guys. Reset, take your positions…"

Sighs rippled through the room, Ruby included, but just when she had almost shut the door something caught her eye in the hall. Namely, bright blue eyes and reddish-brown hair, topped with fox ears that twitched in curiosity.

"AH! Connie, where'd you come from?!" Ruby screeched, jumping back in shock. Connie jerked back at the sudden shout and fell against Team JNPR's door, her eyes wide with alarm and her hands tucked close to her chest, ready to fight.

The dorm room exploded into activity. Yang jumped from her bunk only for her foot to get caught on a blanket, making her trip and sprawl to the floor. At the same time Weiss looked between the door and the table of food in a panic before snatching the makeshift strawberry sunrise and tossing it out the open window, glass and all. With Ruby babbling unintelligibly Blake, calm amidst the chaos, rolled her eyes, closed her book with a snap and walked to the door, giving Connie a small smile as she said, "Hello again."

Connie, suspicious, looked between the babbling leader and Blake before she nodded, though she kept her defensive posture. "Hello," she said quietly. "Is… she alright?"

Ruby's mouth stopped spasming at being mentioned and suddenly shouted, "Pizza!"

At feeling four pairs of eyes staring her down, Ruby shrank into her hood. There was a growing blush on her face as she mumbled, "W-well… we'd like- er, I mean, if you'd like to come in, we have pizza…" She turned, showing Connie the table they had set up for her.

A slow frown marred Connie's features, and she looked between Ruby, Yang, Weiss, and Blake before she demanded, "Why?"

Yang, having recovered from her spill to the floor, walked up behind her sister and asked, "What do you mean?"

"You wouldn't have done that unless you wanted something from me. What is it? What do you want?" As she spoke, Connie's voice grew louder and louder until it was just shy of a shout, her defensiveness feeding into anger.

Ruby grew more and more confused as Connie spoke, until she finally blurted out, "Stop! It's just pizza! We want to get to know you, okay?"

This statement, however, drew an entirely different response from the fox girl. She didn't react at first, though a look of dismay quickly overtook her features. What stunned the others, though, was the sickly green pallor she took on, and she grew more and more distant as she became lost in memory.

-O-O-O-

_The mess hall of the 4__th__ Armored Battalion was an example of organized chaos, as humans and Faunus alike swarmed the food tables. Four long rows of tables were filled all the way down, and the scrawny twelve year old girl could do nothing but stare. The old, ramshackle warehouse had been repurposed into their housing; the five days of initiation she'd spent bring forced to run and run and run until she puked; the mere fact that she was here… this was all just a dream, right?_

_She spent so much time trying to work up the nerve to do anything that she didn't notice the massive dog Faunus until he'd barreled into her, sending her sprawling to the floor._

"_Watch it, kid!" he barked, and lumbered off._

_She sat there, curled up on herself. Maybe if she stayed there, she'd disappear. Maybe that would be for the best…_

"_Kid, you okay?"_

_She looked up at the voice, and saw a human kneeling in front of her. He was several years older, but unlike many of the humans here he didn't look upon her with disgust or hate. Instead, all she saw was concern. _

_He frowned. "Did you hear me, kid?"_

_She looked down, and nodded._

_The human smiled. "Okay, then. My name's Denny, what's yours?"_

_She bit her lip. "Connie," she said in the tiniest of voices._

"_Alright, Connie," he said. "Why don't you join me and my team? We got pizza."_

_Connie frowned. "M… mommy said I shouldn't trust strangers."_

_Denny's face was skewed in a crooked grin. "Well, I know your name, and you know my name. That means we're not strangers anymore. And people who aren't strangers should get to know each other."_

_She couldn't fault his logic… but she still couldn't bring herself to get to her feet._

"_C'mon kid. The pizza's shit, but its better than being out there alone, right? Just trust us."_

-O-O-O-

Seeing this taking a bad turn, Yang sidled around her sister. She let a warm smile on her face as she said gently, "Connie, the food's just a conversation starter. We'd like to get to know you better."

Connie didn't say a word, simply staring deep into Yang's violet gaze as she came back to reality.

"Will you trust us?"

As soon as the words left Yang's mouth, Connie's eye hardened once more. The look of utter _hate_ stunned them all as she snarled, "The last person I trusted _fucked_ me over. I don't need you, or your trust, or your friendship. Keep your pizza, too."

She spun angrily on her heel without another word, trudging straight for her dorm room. Ruby jolted out of her daze, looking around frantically before her eyes settled on the forgotten pizza. Even with her Semblance, she couldn't grab the box and sprint to Connie's neighboring dorm in time before the door slammed in her face.

"Connie, I…" she trailed off. "Connie, _please_. You can trust us. I don't know what happened to you in Ironwood and I can't say I understand, but I want to be able to. You're a good person, I can feel it. You just have to let us in," she pleaded.

Silence.

Ruby looked to her sister, who was leaning out of their dorm room with a sympathetic look on her face. Over a minute passed before Ruby heard a breath as the door creaked open a sliver. Though she could only see one of the girl's eyes, Ruby's heart clenched at how utterly tired Connie looked, leaning her head against the jamb with half-lidded eyes.

"…I need to think," Connie said. Ruby gave an enthusiastic nod, smiling as the fox girl made to shut her door once more. Ruby realized something as she put a hand on Connie's door and said, "H-hey, wait."

Connie paused, her eyes shut. "What is it?" she reluctantly asked.

Ignoring at how sharp Connie's tone was, Ruby held up the pizza. "Me, Yang, Weiss and Blake got this for you. It's yours."

"But I didn't do anything to deserve it," Connie protested, holding up a hand to stop her.

Instead of stopping, Ruby gently pushed the door open and held the box out. "You don't _need_ to do anything to deserve it, Connie."

Tense silence came over the two, with Connie eyeing a smiling Ruby. Slowly, Connie took the pizza box and backed into her room, eyes never leaving Ruby's as she said, "Th-thank you."

"Don't mention it. G'night," Ruby said, her tone chipper as she shut the door behind and left.

Yang was all smiles, bouncing as she said, "Ooh, Ruby! That was so adorable!"

Ruby squeaked as she was glomped by her sister, her breath stolen by Yang's untouchable strength. "Y-Yang… can't breathe…"

"That was… surprisingly well-handled, Ruby," Weiss said with a nod, checking over her nails as she sat on her bed.

"What an excellent backhanded compliment, Ice Queen," Blake shot, looking at the heiress from over her book.

"And there's Ice Queen again…" Weiss muttered in dismay.

Yang smiled and pulled away from her sister, who was turning a pretty shade of blue. "Ruby, I'm really proud of you," she said, warmth practically pouring out of her.

Ruby grinned back, hugging her sister around the waist as she said, "Thanks, Yang."

-O-O-O-

#1

She choked back a sob, struggling to keep her voice down. If nothing else, she didn't want to wake her neighbors with her weakness. She had no idea why she was crying – she never did, even though it was a near nightly ritual. It wasn't the first time that she had wished she could simply wipe the memories from her mind, both from her time in hell, and from happier days when she was just a kit. Just… gone. If memories were what made a person, she would gladly wipe them out just for the chance to start over new. Things would be clear and fresh, met with wonder for the world. She wouldn't be… _herself._

She shuddered and pinched her nose as she took another bite of pizza. Of course, she could just be crying because of the sentiment behind it. The girl gave it to her, expecting nothing in return. Who did that? What person in their right mind did that? The pizza was so mouthwateringly good that all coherent thought was blown right out of her head, turning her into this gibbering mess.

Finally, she finished the last slice. Taking a shuddering breath, she carelessly tossed the box aside and hugged her legs, head resting atop her knees as she took calming breaths. She didn't know what to do. The girl wanted to get closer, that much was blatantly obvious, but could she allow herself?

She felt that she had good reason to resist the girl's attempts at friendship. It was unwanted, unnecessary, and illogical. A person could survive quite well without relationships, and relationships were just another way to inflict harm. But it got her to wondering if it would help keep the memories away. She'd acted out of anger she realized, but she didn't know if it was directed at the girl or herself.

She wiped her cheeks roughly and grabbed her scroll, tapping at it as she looked over documents she had gotten from Hicks that morning. Requisition forms, invoices, and manifests scrolled across the screen, giving her an exact idea of what she had to work with, and made a list of items that interested her. She didn't like that she had to go through him to get the necessary equipment, but she didn't have a choice either way – the fact that she'd hadn't been able to get clearance to enter the base even now was both negligent and disrespectful. If she ever ran into the VDF commander she'd chew him out. Rank be damned, she was worried about her baby.

Sighing, she leaned back against the bed and inspected her weapon. It was an old model, a Maverick Mk 47. While it had no modern amenities – recoil reduction, accelerator rails, oxidized propellant – it made up for it in sheer stopping power. Of course, that was her reasoning two weeks ago, before she had even come across Beacon. It killed Beowolves, but no other Grimm had skull armor as thin as that species. It had been useless against the Creep except to slow it down, and against larger Grimm?

It would be like a fly pummeling itself against a wall.

Though it pained her to part with a weapon that had seen her through the better part of five years, she resigned herself to finding a replacement. Hopefully, something on the list would catch her fancy.

And she would need it if she was to go through with her plan. The girl's resolve would be tested – she would strip away the girl's control and find out exactly what her thoughts were. What better way to do that than to pin her down and pressure the girl?

It would appease her treacherous thoughts, and she would once again prove to herself that no one – _no one_ – could be trusted.

Determination filling her, she sent her list on to the soldier.

-O-O-O-

THE NEXT DAY

"For the past week you have all been wondering what the presence of our newest addition represents," Ozpin said, standing atop the stage in the Beacon auditorium. His eyes were hard and his voice was stern as he continued, "Let me put your suspicions to rest. Once a week, a team will be randomly selected to go on patrol outside the kingdom. Constance Carlisle will be assigned to provide tactical assistance and fire support, and it will be up to you to decide how best she will fit in your team tactics. With these exercises, she will be your liaison to familiarizing yourselves with military tactics and procedures, as well as strengthening your own ability to strategize with unknown factors present."

Glynda nodded and stepped forward, and as she explained specifics Ruby could hardly keep from bouncing where she stood.

"This is cool! This is so cool!" Ruby squealed.

"Ruby! Calm down!" Weiss scolded. "We're in public!"

"Yeah, but, we get to go on a mission with Connie! She's an actual Armor pilot!"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Yes, you have established that multiple times this last week."

A week had gone by since Connie had arrived, and another two days since the incident outside their dorm room. Weiss and Ruby had apologized for their disagreement, though Weiss had said she couldn't just deny her instincts and welcome the Faunus with open arms. As it was, Connie was avoiding people more than ever, preferring to spend her time in her dorm room, with the teachers, or even with the strange guardsman who kept watch over the VDF elevator. That would have made Weiss' day if it meant Connie was out of their lives, but what threw her off were the long, contemplative stares Connie gave people, including her and the rest of Team RWBY. Ruby, in particular. It was becoming increasingly difficult to dismiss the thought that the Faunus was deciding how best to slit their throats while they all slept, though if it was to keep her blockheaded leader happy, she would… _try_.

"…Furthermore, it is imperative that if Miss Constance asks anything of you, it is in your best interest to follow her instructions as best you can," Goodwitch said. At hearing grumbles pass through the crowd, she adjusted her glasses and leveled her darkest glare at the students. "Despite her age, she has had enough training to be considered a professional Huntress. That is in addition to being accepted as a student in Beacon. I will defer to _her_ after the conclusion of each patrol and this _will_ be a graded assignment, so be sure to behave in a manner that reflects well on you, your team, and your abilities."

That quickly shut the mouths of any would-be naysayers.

Ozpin took a drink from his coffee mug, earning a stern glare from Glynda as he said, "These patrol missions are meant to familiarize you with the workings of Remnant's different branches of military, students. Put in your best efforts, and you will not be disappointed. Dismissed."

As students began to file out, Ruby couldn't contain her excitement, bouncing on her heels as she squealed, "_Ooh, _I can't wait I can't wait _I can't wait!"_

Weiss groaned and looked to Yang. "Could you please, for the love of Dust, control your sister?"

Smirking, Yang crossed her arms behind her head. "Welp, she's _your_ partner, get to partnerin'!" she chipperly replied. Blake smirked, idly following the three with an amused gleam in her eyes.

"That's not- how do you even- I sincerely worry about you and your sister's mental health sometimes," Weiss groaned.

"Weiss does have a point," Blake interjected, just loud enough for them all to hear.

Now that most of the students had left the auditorium, Team RWBY made their way towards the exit. It was Saturday, giving them a whole forty-eight hours to themselves before it was back to boring lectures and mind-numbing homework. Ruby couldn't wait to hang out with her friends, and maybe even invite Connie along.

At this, Ruby's mood pulled a complete 180. "But, Connie _still_ hasn't talked to us, and we don't see her at the cafeteria anymore. Have any of you even seen her eat?"

Now that Weiss thought about it, she hadn't, and it was strangely disturbing. "No… I can't say that I have."

"Nope," Yang agreed, frowning in concern. Blake shook her head as well.

Ruby steeled herself. "Okay, if she's going to starve herself, then I'm going to stop her. I don't care if she doesn't like it, or us. I'm not going to sit around and just-"

At that moment, her scroll rang. Frowning, she pulled it out and was shocked to see that it was from Connie. It was a simple message – _Meet me in the firing range. Bring your weapon. Come alone._

She showed it to the others. "Um, guys? That was Connie."

Yang took a look at the strange message and frowned. "I don't like it. It smells fishy to me."

"I agree. This is obviously a trap," Weiss said with a nod.

Ruby frowned. "Uh, a trap for _what_? We're in school – it's not like people are just going to whip out a gun!"

There was a terrible crunch of gears behind them, and Ruby was dismayed to find that Coco, the leader of Team CFVY, was muttering curses under her breath as she fiddled with her jammed handbag, partially shifted into its weapon form. Coco snarled and yanked the minigun off the floor, casually walking by the group with the malfunctioning weapon held for the entire world to see.

Still silent, Yang, Weiss and Blake gave Ruby expectant looks.

"You were saying?" Blake asked.

Ruby groaned and rubbed her forehead. "Okay, okay, fine. But I know she wouldn't do anything, I don't think that Connie's a bad person!"

"You don't think _anyone_ is a bad person, Rubes," Yang said. "You've been that way since you were little."

"I know that Torchwick guy isn't good," Ruby offered brightly.

Weiss leaned back on one foot as she crossed her arms. "That would be the understatement of the century, Ruby."

"Guys, _please_, trust me on this," Ruby pleaded. "If anything goes wrong, I have my scroll. And I'll have Crescent Rose with me! Really, I'll be fine."

There was a long, pregnant pause as Yang thought, until finally she threw up her hands and said, "Fine. You know what? Fine. You can go, but I'm coming with you."

"But Connie said that-"

"Screw Connie! Look, I wanna help her too, but I'm not going to let my sister waltz into danger alone."

"What danger?!"

"If it helps any, I'll let you go in there alone," Yang offered. "But I'm not going to let my baby sister be by herself with someone we don't know anything about."

-O-O-O-

"Yang…"

Ruby huddled into her hood, too embarrassed for words. Not only had her sister retrieved Ember Celica, she had also fully changed into her combat gear. It was quite a sight to see Ruby still in her school uniform, Crescent Rose at her back, while Yang walked beside her with glowing red eyes and ready to punch the next person who ventured too close.

"Yep?" Yang asked. It would've been comforting if it weren't for the fact that she was glaring holes into a guy as they walked past him, the sheer physical force of her gaze causing him to flatten himself against the wall as much as he possibly could. Of course, it could be because the last time she had looked this livid, she had nearly punched Cardin through a wall.

"You're being a little… intense."

"Yep."

"Are you gonna, you know, ease up?"

"Nope."

Ruby groaned. _"Yang…"_

"Okay, just…. Let me do this, okay?" Yang said worriedly. "If I can't escort my baby sis to a firing range where a Faunus super-badass is waiting for her with loaded weapons after sending her a mysterious text, which is _totally_ something from a spy movie by the way, then what good am I?"

As she walked, Ruby wrapped a comforting arm around her sister's waist. "Yang, I'm going to be fine. I trust Connie, you saw how hard she tried to keep Patrick and Nina safe!"

"Yeah well, what a person looks like and what they are aren't the same thing. I just want you to be safe," Yang said quietly, settling her arm across Ruby's shoulders.

It was almost too soon that they reached the firing range. It was in the West Wing, appropriately next door to the Engineering Lab, and as Ruby approached the door she saw that it was reserved with the time flashing on the holopad beside the door. She detached herself from her sister and gave her a reassuring smile before Ruby turned to the door, and what awaited on the other side.

Ruby closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she pushed the door open and walked in… alone.

-O-O-O-

Spent bullet casings littered the floor and counter of the firing booth Connie shot from, with a stack of hole-riddled metal and paper targets on the floor beside her. Frowning, she set the still-smoking gun aside. It was a bullpup-style sniper rifle, light and compact. Maybe it was a little _too_ light though - her shoulder still tingled from the recoil. Weapon manufacturers nowadays just didn't understand the importance of weight in high-caliber guns, as it took much more force to move a fifteen pound gun than it did a five pound one. That translated directly into how much recoil was transferred through the gun, and thus how comfortable it was to use. Tossing it in the 'no' pile off in the corner, Connie walked back to the laden cart behind her and grabbed another gun at random.

This one was an M54, a compact heavy pistol made by Dronner66 Armories. She smiled slightly, hefting the little thing in her hand. It was a unique gun that used a bullpup design as well, pushing the grip forward on the gun and most of the slide back onto the hand and wrist. Though it looked unwieldy, bracing the gun against the entire wrist helped direct recoil into the arm instead of the wrist. The magazine was also braced against the wrist, keeping the sights perfectly in line with the arm. She'd actually seen it used before by most of her drill instructors, though she had been considered too unimportant to be given one.

There was a smug grin on her face as she slid in a clip, seeing that the bullets were even fatter than in those in the Maverick. She leaned forward and braced herself before aiming down the sights, fully expecting the fifty caliber round to knock her onto her rear.

She was pleasantly surprised when the gun barely thudded against her palm, yet utterly shredded the metal target downrange.

Connie smiled sadly as she eyed the Maverick where it lay on the counter to her shooting booth. It had served her well, and it pained her to say that its service was over.

At any rate, she had narrowed down her options. She'd reduced an entire cart of firearms into three haphazard piles of 'no, 'maybe,' and 'yes,' though the no pile was significantly larger than the other two. Plus it was literally a bunch of guns dumped in the corner of the range. Her gunnery chief would have a conniption if he saw.

Okay, there was technically only a 'no' and a 'maybe' pile…

Truth be told, Connie had been in the range all morning. She'd barely plucked up the nerve to send Ruby that message, having been agonizing over it since the night before – it was practically why she was in the range in the first place, in a feeble attempt to calm herself down. Firing high-powered bullets at targets always relaxed her. But… if she was being completely honest, she hadn't been eating or sleeping well either, preferring to roam the halls at night. The food – which was normally above and beyond anything she'd eaten in years – tasted bland and unappetizing. Her plan had been nagging at her ever since she had thought of it.

Connie aimed the M54 downrange and pulled the trigger as fast as the action would allow. The gun kept up easily, spitting out rounds at a pace that put the Maverick to shame. Ten bullets later, all that was left of the metal target was a hole-riddled piece of scrap. She was elated even as she removed the empty clip and locked the slide back.

Carefully setting the pistol aside back on the cart, fully intending to keep it, Connie looked over the last three guns. One was a shotgun, an old Carvington 870. It was a venerable model, but it had an abysmal effective range and she didn't like the idea of getting in close.

The second was a modification of the M54, making it more like a submachine gun, though it was large enough to be considered a rifle and utterly defeated the purpose of being a pistol.

The final gun caught her eye, though. It was a new design called an Orthrus, made by a derivative of Carlisle Industries. Peterku Labs, if she remembered right. Hefting the rifle in her hands, she found that it was made mostly of polymer, extremely lightweight and feeling almost fragile in her hands.

Connie was snapped out of her inspection when the door to the firing range opened. While she had been expecting Ruby to come, that certainly didn't mean she had prepared herself – and she found herself floundering as the red-hooded girl saw the piles of weapons and gasped.

"Wh-what?! How could you?! Oh, these poor babies!" she cried, and vanished in a blur of rose petals. It took Connie a few frantic moments of searching before she finally spotted Ruby huddled over where the heap of discarded weapons languished on the floor, cradling a large, belt-fed machine gun as tears streamed from her eyes. She moaned every time her eyes fell on another disrespected weapon, culminating in an exaggerated bawl.

Ruby tearfully looked to Connie. "How could you do this to them?" she whimpered, sniveling as she turned her face towards the heavens.

_That's… interesting,_ Connie thought to herself. She caught herself wanting to explain herself to Ruby – and almost did – until she remembered why the both of them were there. Biting her tongue, Connie hardened her gaze and put her plan into motion.

Connie turned her back to the girl and fired a pair of shots at the target downrange. She nearly dropped the rifle in shock when it fired a ball of energized Dust that exploded on impact, like a scaled-down version of Grendel's cannon. Sure, it made a pretty explosion, but it just felt _wrong. _Frowning in distaste, Connie carelessly tossed the weapon towards the discarded arsenal. Ruby, who had been watching in awe, was horrified as she dived and caught the weapon before it could hit the ground.

This time, she really did turn a glare on Connie as she shouted, "Connie, stop! What're you doing?!"

Connie ignored her once again, instead picking up the M54 to shoot off another clip as fast as possible. Ruby ignored the loud, rapid-fire reports as she strode up to the fox girl.

"Connie, answer me! How could you just throw these babies away like that?!"

"Why shouldn't I?"

Ruby was taken back at Connie abrupt question. "Um… huh?"

"Why shouldn't I throw them away?" Connie asked again, looking Ruby in the eye as she lowered the empty, smoking gun. "I don't need them. They don't suit my purposes. To me, they're trash. So why shouldn't I throw them away?"

"Because it's disrespectful!" Ruby shouted indignantly. "Someone can still use them! Someone else will like them! Treating them like trash takes that away!"

"But why is that important to me?" Connie asked. "A weapon is a weapon. So tell me, why?"

Ruby scrunched her face in frustration. "They're not just weapons! They're extensions of _us_!"

Connie ejected the empty clip, setting it gently on the counter before she took the Maverick in her free hand and showed both guns to Ruby. "This is a Maverick Mk 47. I've had it for five years, and I'm replacing it for this M54. Ask me why."

Caught off guard by the change of subject, Ruby's anger was brushed aside. "U-um… why?"

"Because I no longer need it," Connie responded. "This Maverick no longer suits my purposes, so I'm replacing it. By your words, this Maverick is an extension of myself, and that, by definition, implies that I am bound to it. If that were the case, then I would not be able to part with it. So explain to me why I can throw it away so easily and _not feel a thing?"_

Ruby flapped her mouth like a fish, struggling for words as Connie stared her down. The girl's intense stare made her quiver and her thoughts race, struggling for an answer that might appease her. Feeling that time was short, Ruby felt her body grow cold in panic. The only thing that kept her grounded was the Orthrus cradled in her arms that she had saved from Connie's carelessness.

At this, Ruby paused. Lost in thought she took a mental step back and took another look at the discarded weapons. They were abandoned. Just like the Orthrus in her arms and just like the Maverick, Connie's own firearm, that was being replaced for something new and better. There was a connection, but what? She couldn't claim to know Connie or what made her tick, but Ruby knew the girl didn't do or say anything unless it had a purpose. Ruby understood what Connie was asking her on a practical level – her gun was outdated, so it was being replaced.

But why bring her down here just to ask that? Why ask for her specifically, no less? It didn't make sense – she knew Connie couldn't care less about what someone else thought. There had to be something else… and outright saying that she was replacing her gun was oddly specific.

Suddenly, it clicked. Ruby realized that this wasn't about the guns.

Taking a breath, Ruby examined the Orthrus in her arms. Connie grew impatient and demanded, "Aren't you going to answer? Why shouldn't… _it_ be replaced?"

Connie scowled at her slip.

Ruby smiled, feeling the gun in her hands. Its Dust reactor pulsed like a heartbeat, fast and fluttery. "I actually haven't seen one of these Orthrus guns," she said. "They're one of the first mass-produced rifles that are powered by Dust. It uses an oscillating dampener instead of a steady magnetic field to produce the shot, so there's no lag time before it actually fires." She pointed to the machine gun. "That's an M249. It has one of the highest fire rates of any gun on Remnant. And that's a P92, it has really good stopping power for its size."

Carefully setting the weapon on the ground, Connie pulled Crescent Rose off her hip and triggered the catch, unfurling her weapon into a full-sized scythe that she jammed into the ground, making Connie jump back in shock. She smiled as she continued, "And this is Crescent Rose. She's a customizable, high-impact sniper rifle and scythe hybrid I made back in Signal. Yeah, sure, I overdesigned the heck out of her and she nearly broke my arms when I first started training with her, but she's a part of me."

Pausing, Ruby stared Connie straight in the eye. "They're all unique. They all have their own souls. They could _never_ be replaced."

Connie felt cold. She had seen the realization in Ruby's eyes. Her plan to pressure her had backfired, and so easily, too.

"Then what about _this_," she demanded desperately, feeling her argument begin to crumble as she thrust the Maverick at Ruby. "It has high power, but it can't penetrate. The cartridges are preloaded and can jam, and don't have enough bullets to keep an enemy down for long. It needs to be cleaned constantly. It's inaccurate at long range. It has enough flaws to fill an entire textbook. Give me one reason why it _shouldn't_ be replaced."

"Because you can't replace it. Even if it's gone, since it helped you out so much it'll stay with you."

At this, Connie growled and slammed the guns down on the counter. She gritted her teeth, ears laid back in anger. This girl… this_ damn _girl!Why wouldn't she give her the answer she wanted?!

Losing all sense of pretense with her growing temper, Connie jammed her finger into Ruby's shoulder and snarled, "You want to know me? That's it?"

Ruby nodded.

"Give me _one reason _why you won't shove it back in my face! _One!"_

Ruby smiled. "Nope."

Connie jerked back like she'd been slapped. "Nope?"

"Nope. I can't because I wouldn't do that, Connie."

"And why wouldn't you?" she snapped, regaining her fury. "What's stopping you?"

Ruby shrugged. "I dunno. Because you're a friend to me."

At this, Connie's patience snapped. She ripped the M54 from the counter and fired shot after shot downrange, their echoes as thunderous a roar of frustration and anger as she could ever make.

"_Everyone _says that, right up until they leave you out to dry," she hissed once all her rounds had been fired.

Ruby was silent.

"My own _squad _left me like I was just- just a piece of trash!" Connie snarled, chest heaving as she hyperventilated, slamming the ground back on the counter. "I was the newbie, then I was the gofer, then I was the goddamn maid! I did everything they asked! I stole food from the canteen, I even palmed the teacher's scroll for exam notes! I was loyal in every way to them, _and they still abandoned me! They left me like I was nothing!_"

The firing range was silent, save for Connie's heaving breaths. Mentally, Connie was screaming at herself. Instead of pressuring the girl into talking the reverse happened, and she had hardly done a thing. It was so pathetic it made Connie sick to her stomach, and she looked to Ruby with a resigned, dead look in her eye.

"So tell me, Ruby Rose," she said bitterly, "what are you going to do? You're going to walk out of here and tell people what you saw, aren't you? The big, bad Faunus broke down!"

She sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway, I'm used to it." She shook her head. "It's always the same."

"Nope."

Connie sighed and rested her head in her palms, leaning against the booth. "To _what_…?" she groaned.

Ruby leaned against the counter beside the fox girl. "To both. I don't tell people someone else's feelings. And this place isn't Ironwood. Weiss told me how bad that place is, she went there herself." She pulled Crescent Rose out of the ground.

"I can't say I know what you've gone through because I'd be lying, but I'd like to… and I'm really bad at lying," she admitted, fiddling with her weapon. "Besides, you're the first person who's an Armor pilot _and _a Huntress! How cool is that?" Ruby said excitedly, her serious tone losing its edge.

"I'm not a Huntress," Connie muttered. Ruby giggled and nudged the fox girl with her shoulder, smiling as she stared at the bullet-riddled targets.

With a sigh, Connie fingered the M54 by her elbow. "So what now? No matter what you say, I can't trust you. And I _know_ you're not going to leave me alone."

Ruby shrugged. "Well, just be with us."

Connie was immediately perplexed. "…Be with you?"

"Yeah. You don't need to talk. You don't even have to pay attention when Yang's making a bad pun, just… _be_ there."

Connie felt like she was about to explode. She didn't know if the feeling was just frustration, or anger, or jealousy. It was as if her brain and body suddenly realized it didn't know what to do, and yet it desperately, desperately wanted to do just that. Acting in accordance with her training didn't help. Shooting targets didn't help. And being a cold-hearted bitch to this girl certainly wasn't helping, either.

But she was a soldier. This was all she could do.

"I… don't think that would be a good idea," she said. In her mind's eye, she could see herself throwing one of them over her shoulder if they touched her when she wasn't expecting it. Or standing at attention even when she wasn't trying to, trying to blend in and convince everyone she was the real thing. That wasn't even including the thought of one of them disturbing her in the night, earning a knife through the gut for their troubles.

"It wouldn't end well for any of us. It's safer that way."

At this, Ruby was flummoxed. She'd literally been flying by the seat of her pants, and calling Connie out on her argument was just a guess, a half-baked one at that. She could see the pain in the girl's eyes, but knew any form of comfort she could offer would be rejected. Ruby didn't know what to do from here. What _could_ she do? Stumped, Ruby steeled herself and thought of the most obvious thing to say.

"Connie," she began, "do you _want_ to be alone?"

A pause, and Connie shook her head.

"Do you _like_ being alone?"

Another shake.

"Then I think you have your answer."

Not feeling the need to say anything more, Ruby collapsed Crescent Rose and left, letting the firing range door clunk softly behind her. As Yang wrapped her arm around her sister's neck as they strode away, admitting that she heard everything, Connie was lost in thought. She debated her next more, trying to decide the best course of action. One that would keep both her and the people around her safe. Her thoughts swirled chaotically, unable to settle on one decision before Connie simply threw her hands in the air in frustration.

-O-O-O-

During dinner later that night, Connie walked into the cafeteria hesitant and unsure. She spotted Team PSFN in the corner and gave Nina a small nod in greeting – one the knight returned in kind. Cardin scowled at her, glaring at her darkly as she crossed the room. She didn't give him the time of day as she quietly piled her tray with food. It was when she turned away from the food line that she paused, seeing Team RWBY only a few rows of tables away from her. They smiled and laughed – well, Ruby and Yang mostly, while Blake was content to watch and Weiss was doing her best to bring the two under control. Connie almost turned away, but then Ruby spotted her, her face lighting with a smile as she stood and waved.

"Connie! Over here!" she cried out, struggling to be heard over the din.

Connie froze, remembering Ruby's words from earlier.

_Yeah. You don't need to talk. You don't even have to pay attention when Yang's making a bad pun, just… _be_ there._

Against her better judgment, against every instinct screaming at her not to, Connie slowly made her way toward the group.

-O-O-O-

Felix hummed to himself as he bustled around his workshop, cheerful as he fixed and redesigned weapons of destruction. Part of his cheerfulness was that he had just finished repairs on the M7A6-H that had been brought in almost a week and a half ago, and knowing that he had just breathed new life into a machine like the M7 brought joy to his heart. He always enjoyed working them, no matter how few were left – they had a lot of room to work in, relatively, making repairs and maintenance far easier than most other designs. Granted, the machine would be on a slow spiral towards its own death, but he would delay it as long as he could.

After all, despite the pilot's somewhat dubious modifications, tinkering with the machine made it obvious that this particular M7 was rebuilt from several different designs. Despite the Frankensteined way the parts had been fitted together, it was done so with care. That in itself told him that she cared about the tank very much.

He was beside the vulture-like 'Mech, feet propped on a table as he poured over its programming on his Scroll when the door to his workshop opened with a whine of hydraulics. Felix shot to his feet at seeing who walked through the doors, standing as tall as his five foot flat body allowed him to.

"Ah. Commander Zurich. Pleasure to see you. Just working on the T1. Slow work, can't seem to reduce its power draw," Felix said in a rush.

Commander Zurich scanned the workshop, scrunching his nose at the overpowering smell of oil and hydraulic fluid. He was a stout man, human, shorter than Professor Port with just as much gut and black hair that smelled overwhelmingly of dye. Following him was a human teenager around nineteen, looking bored as he played with his brown ponytail.

Much to Felix's surprise, he was wearing a black piloting suit. He wasn't aware that there was an Armor pilot stationed in the VDF, though he wouldn't have missed someone quite that tall. The teen probably stood over six feet.

"Why have you not gotten rid of that thing yet," Zurich demanded in a thick accent, glaring at the M7.

Felix blinked. "Pilot unable to claim her machine. Not authorized. _Your_ orders, I believe."

The mouse Faunus let out a surprised squawk when Zurich snatched him up by the front of his coveralls, lifting him off the floor as he snarled, "I do not care if you throw it in the trash compacter, I want that machine out of my sight."

Before Zurich could say anything more however, the teen frowned as he stepped towards the tank. "Hey, this hunk looks familiar. Whose is it?"

Felix grunted as he fumbled with Zurich's hands, trying to break free. "Pilot Carlisle! New student in Beacon!"

At this, the teen gave a wolfish laugh. "Aw man, _Carlisle?! Seriously?! _Holy shit, it's a small world…" He turned to Zurich. "Hey, Zurich –"

"_Commander _Zurich," the heavyset man growled, tossing Felix away like a ragdoll and ignoring him when he flew into a stack of pipes, knocking them over with hollow clangs.

"Whatever," the pilot said flippantly. "Look, I want that T1 _and _that tank."

At this, Felix leapt to his feet and rushed towards the pilot. "No no no! I cannot allow that! The T1 is a prototype! Never made it past testing! Will kill you, for sure! And M7 belongs to another pilot, not within the VDF's rights to –"

Felix gave another squawk when he was snatched off the ground again and brought within an inch of the pilot's face. "Look here, _little mouse. _I'm Falcone Winchester, _you get me?_ My family practically _runs_ the VDF now. It's within the VDF's rights to take that tank because _I_ say it is."

He tossed the Faunus away, much like Zurich before. There was a sadistic grin as his face as he walked out of the room, muttering to himself, "Looks like I'll get to play with the fox again after all."

Zurich growled under his breath, leaving the room without another word. It was only when they were both gone that Felix poked his head out from the pile of tools her had been thrown in, once stacked on his workbench. His mouth was set in a determined line as he picked himself out of the mess, ambling to the tank to lift a small panel of armor. He tapped away at the conceal control pad as he muttered to himself, "No one… tank not his, must ensure it won't… Ah!"

He tapped another control, and the tank's AI intoned, "_Command accepted. Hushed Casket protocols enabled. Generating access code. Proceeding with lockdown."_

The cockpit hatch slammed shut, clicking as bolts locked into place. Nothing short of high-grade explosive would be able to crack the tank open now, and the AI, as rudimentary as it was, would be able to repel any sort of attack on its systems.

One way or another, he would make sure that no one but Connie would get their hands on her tank.

-O-O-O-

CODEX: VANV (Vale Navy) Eternity

The Vale Navy Vessel _Eternity _has a long history, stretching back nearly three hundred years. Her construction first began the 8th of Sun's Dusk, 1837, and was launched on the 4th of Last Seed in 1840. Her sister ship, _Temperance, _was constructed and launched during this same timeframe. The heaviest and most powerfully armed vessel of her time, displacing 72,800 tons at full load and armed with twelve 46 centimeter cannons, the _Eternity_ was built as a symbol of the undying spirit of mankind, and sortied in forty-nine battles over her lifetime, nearly a third of those being naval battles. She also stands as the largest naval vessel in history, both at sea and airborne, reaching 263 meters in length, and 39 meters at her tallest point, being her conning tower. Additionally, she'd gone through multiple modernizations to prolong her lifespan, each leaving the Eternity the most advanced ocean-faring vessel on Remnant.

Throughout her lifetime, dozens of crews were rotated aboard the _Eternity_. While she was mainly used as support against the Grimm, the firepower she brought to bear made the ship invaluable simply as a bargaining chip – few people dared to go against her overwhelming firepower and nearly impenetrable armor. Seeing that there were few times that she was without her sister ship, _Temperance,_ this was doubly true. While the _Temperance_ was deployed in nearly every battle that the _Eternity _took part in and contributed just as much, the _Eternity_ was often publicized and favored over her sister.

However, her most famous battle was the Mistralan Blockade during the Great War. A fleet of Faunus-converted freighters and trawlers had assaulted the main shipping lines of Mistral, cutting the kingdom off from the rest of Remnant. As resources were stretched thin while carrying out Order 636, the relocation and incarceration of all Faunus in Menagerie, only two ships could be spared from the main fleet inbound from Vale to Atlas. These ships were the _Temperance_ and the _Eternity_. Together, they assaulted the main Faunus forces and routed nearly forty ships alone. However, midway through the battle, torpedo bombers were able to break through the flak cover of both ships. Reportedly, the _Temperance_ maneuvered in the way of twenty-three torpedos, preventing no more than three to hit the _Eternity. _The _Temperance_ was sunk, firing her final salvo against the enemy even as she disappeared beneath the waves, while the Eternity, suffering from flooding herself, drove off the remainders of the Faunus fleet before running herself aground to be recovered later.

The _Eternity_ has lain there to this day, off the coast of Mistral. She has become something of a landmark – however, plans have been drawn to recover her. The wreckage of the _Temperance_ has never been found either, and a memorial to their sacrifices has been erected at the base of the Vale CCT.


	12. Chapter Eleven: The Fire Down Below

_Right. So. Erm... sorry about the delay. In my defense, I've had shit go down over here. Nothing serious, but time consuming all the same._

_Now, we're getting into the unbeta'ed chapters. Karma is awesome, but she's got a life of her own and couldn't get to my shit. So, I apologize in advance if I missed anything during my own editing. Give me a shout if you guys spot anything, I'd appreciate it._

_Cheers._

* * *

General Ironwood stared out his office window, watching the Atlesian landscape. It was mottled with hues of white, brown and grey, of snow, ice, infertile dirt and mountain side, with dreary grey clouds above. It was a harsh land, and only the foolish would ever want to call the inhospitable continent their home. Luckily, the local Atlesians were incredibly foolish. Those wandering thoughts brought a smirk to James' face as he drank from his mug, a cup made from burnished steel.

Though, truth be told, that double-layered bulletproof portal to the outside world was the only decoration in his office, with only his computer, a clock above the door, and a single picture frame at his right elbow.

As the clouds grew darker, so did the ache in the General's right arm. He grunted as he set his mug down and rubbed his shoulder, leaning against the marbled granite of his monolithic desk. It was a welcome distraction when his door opened and his secretary slipped though, a petite woman with brown hair and gentle features. She was good at her job and could sift through the muck and mire that was public opinion with ease. Most importantly, she didn't ask questions and could withstand the General's imposing presence.

"General, you have a call on line two. He would only give his name as Hawthorn," she said quietly.

James inwardly grimaced and nodded. "Thank you, Violet. You may leave."

When she left, Ironwood let out a sigh as he rubbed his temple, settling uneasily back into his chair. Reports had been coming in from Qrow – the Queen was gathering pieces far faster than any of them had anticipated. At the rate the White Fang attacks and Dust robberies had been increasing, the situation in Vale would reach a flashpoint in under a year. That wasn't even taking in the unrest of the Faunus population, and how quickly the Schnee's kept burning through their workforce to try to compensate for the thefts. All it did was give the White Fang more Dust and even more incentive for the Faunus to join the terrorist group, running the cycle in circles. If anyone was to blame for much of the unrest of the modern age, it was the Schnee Dust Corporation.

Of course, Ironwood could hardly claim to be a paragon of honor and virtue. He was silent as he gave his coffee a generous dollop of brandy.

Reluctantly, James tapped the holographic keyboard and had the displeasure to find an older man with greying black hair and moustache had contacted him. This man, along with three others, had been the bane of his existence for some time now.

"Hawthorne, may I ask just why you contacted me at my personal number?" he asked in a deathly cold tone, hands folded in front of his nose.

Translation – why the _fuck_ are you calling me at my office?

Hawthorne cleared his throat before he said_, "James, we have a problem."_

With a raised eyebrow, James brought his mug to his lips. "I've told you before, do not use my name. And why is that my concern? Carlisle Industries has no formal ties to the Atlesian military," he stated.

At this, Hawthorn gave an ugly smirk. _"Yes, but it is now your problem, unless you'd like to figure out the AP-290's power problems on your own."_

"You know just as well as I that we _need_ the Paladin," James snapped in an even tone, leveling a dark glare at the old man. "I hired your company to optimize the reactor; you are obligated to finish it."

"_I can claim patent infringement and stall the release by several months."_

"I can indict you and sue your shriveled balls to the Stone Age."

"_Can you really afford the delay, _boy_?"_ Hawthorne mockingly asked, a wry grin on the old bastard's face.

At this, Ironwood gave a tired sigh. Hawthorn smirked and leaned forward into the camera. _"I'm glad that you've seen reason, James."_

For perhaps the millionth time, Ironwood vowed to put together a team to assassinate the entire Board of Directors. Unfortunately, the small company had sold hundreds of designs to practically every sector of business, including those of the criminal underworld. Ironwood had his hands in deep pockets, but even he didn't come close to the lack of morals that Carlisle Industries enjoyed. They were nearly untouchable.

"_Here is what you will do,"_ Hawthorn said. "_A student of yours went AWOL around three months ago. Constance Carlisle. We need her. You're going to go through every outgoing shipment manifest around that time and look for any strange cargo."_

At this Ironwood perked his head up, instantly recognizing the name. "Constance Carlisle?" he asked derisively. "I have no respect for deserters. What on _earth_ do you want with her?"

Hawthorn gave a crooked grin. "_And that, my boy, is just something you'll have to keep on wondering. Get those documents."_ With that, Hawthorn broke the connection.

Ironwood sat back with an irritated growl, cursing the man for all he was worth. Absolutely no other person on Remnant got under his skin more than King Hawthorn, the leader of his little Director band. He was a shrewd businessman that rivaled Ironwood himself, with none of that pesky thing called a conscience to weigh him down.

Carlisle Industries was once a great company. And while it had more wealth, more power, and more renown than it ever had before, second only to the Schnee Dust Company in terms of power, it had become a shadow of what it once was. Of course, James felt sympathy for the Carlisle girl. He could freely admit that she was the best he had ever seen – he had even considered making her the pilot of her own Paladin, and squad leader of her own troops. Of course, she had deserted and effectively threw that plan out the window.

Like he'd said, Ironwood had no respect for deserters. Dereliction of duty and subsequent loss of morale were what led the Great War to drag on as long as it had. But despite that, he felt sorry for the girl, and hoped that Hawthorn would never be able to find her.

-O-O-O-

It was a cold, rainy day over Beacon Academy. It came down in buckets, drenching Vale in a mid-spring rainstorm that would help bring life into the region. In a week the grass would be green and lush, and crops would be well on their way for harvest.

Now? Students were cursing the skies for ruining their lunch hour, where most would head outside. What made it worse was that it was a Sunday, making it the last day of freedom for a whole week. Contrary to the gloom hanging over the school, Connie was glad that the halls were empty as she followed Professor Ozpin, his cane tapping on the floor as they walked.

"Professor Ozpin, you aren't obligated to help me," she said.

With a wry chuckle, Ozpin replied, "You are one of my students, Miss Constance. It would be irresponsible of me to leave you on your own while you were trying to get back what is yours."

Connie huffed, ears laying back in annoyance. She struggled to keep up with Ozpin's long strides as she argued, "This isn't an issue you need to concern yourself with, sir. It's _my_ tank, I can –"

"No matter what argument you think up, Connie," he interrupted sternly, "I will still accompany you. If nothing else I need to have words with Commander Zurich."

Half expecting Ozpin to continue, Connie paused before she let out a long sigh through her nose. "As you wish, Professor."

The pair walked in silence. They had been walking for several minutes before Connie noticed a tickle at the back of her skull, and took a moment to listen and sniff the air. When she realized what was bugging her she snorted in amusement.

"We seem to have guests," she whispered.

Ozpin glanced over his shoulder, smirking when he noticed a shadow flit across the hall and hide behind one of the decorative pillars lining it. "It seems we do. Of course," he said loudly, "the VDF takes the kingdom's security very seriously. As you are an Armor pilot you can understand the need, but be sure _not_ to bring anyone down there. They would have to be detained indefinitely."

There was a squeak and shuffling of feet.

"Permission to smoke out our guests?" Connie asked.

Ozpin nodded. "Granted."

Connie spun in a blur, drawing her M54 as she did so and leveling it down the hall. "Step out, _now,"_ she ordered, her voice hard and level. It took a long moment, but Ruby, Yang, and Weiss sheepishly stepped out from behind a pillar. Well, Ruby and Yang were sheepish – Weiss simply looked bored.

With a snort, Connie holstered her weapon. "What on _Remnant_ are you doing?"

Ruby nervously chuckled, wringing her hands as she opened her mouth to speak.

"She wanted to spy on you, Yang hopped on board, and Weiss was dragged along for the ride. I was just following Yang," Blake said, looking comfortable as she leaned against the wall beside Connie. The fox girl looked at her in shock.

"How did you –"

"I can be _very_ quiet when I want to be," Blake said with a smirk.

"Blake!" Ruby yelled in outrage. "How dare you! I would _never _even _think_ of spying on a dear friend of mine, even if she was going into an awesome military bunker!"

Connie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stifle the beginnings of a headache. It was the second day after Connie joined Team RWBY for lunch. While the group had tried to continue on with their lives as normally as possible, Connie threw a wrench into almost everything they did. Not that Ruby was complaining, not at all. While they tried to include her in their days – Ruby and Yang, at least – they had met little success, as Connie always managed to find some excuse to get out of it. Usually in the form of an impromptu patrol, cleaning her gun or practicing at the firing range. Despite that, they found that Connie had taken on an almost unbroken streak of curiosity, watching the group from the background with bright, intent eyes. While Ruby was wholeheartedly trying to befriend the fox girl, Connie simply accepted it, preferring to remain at arm's distance from the group.

However, despite their tense… _whatever_ she had with Team RWBY, she would not allow them to force themselves into her business.

"Ruby, you're not going into the facility," Connie said forcefully, trying to make her back down.

Ruby gave an entirely fake smile and wrung her hands. "Wh-what do you mean? I had _absolutely _no intention of sneaking in there! Eh heh heh…"

"…Yeah Rubes, that wasn't obvious at all," Yang muttered.

With a sigh, Weiss rubbed her own aching temple. "This is what you get when you convince an innocent child to lie."

"I'm not a child! And I'm _not_ innocent!" Ruby shouted, stamping her foot.

A lecherous smirk crossed Yang's face. "Oh yeah? So you're _corruptible?"_

"Yes!"

"So who ya done it with? Who _corrupted _you?"

Ruby sucked in a breath, ready to continue her tirade when she realized just exactly what she had walked into. She froze, slowly going pale as the realization dawned on her. The fox Faunus didn't know that it was possible for a human to turn such a spectacular shade of red as Ruby screeched, "Yang! Ew! _Why?!"_

"Because it's fun," Yang said with a grin.

Watching the sisters, Connie couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Nevertheless," Ozpin said, "I still wish to know why the four of you were following us."

Again, Ruby wrung her hands, gulping before Yang patted her shoulder. She seemed to gather her courage at knowing her team was there as she said, "W-well, we were worried about Connie. She's been joining us for lunch the last couple of days but she didn't show up this time. We wanted to make sure nothing bad was going on so we went to look for her."

"If I may interject, I was just carried along on the rollercoaster of insanity that is Team RWBY," Weiss pointed out – however, she didn't seem to mind as much as she should have.

Blake snorted.

Ozpin nodded, and said, "So you found her, and instead of calling out to your friend you stalked her."

"We weren't stalking!" Ruby cried. "It's just that, before I could say something you were talking about the VDF base and I wanted to know more!"

At this, Connie frowned, chewing on her lip before she turned to Ozpin. "Permission to speak freely, Professor?"

Ozpin frowned, but he nodded.

"The VDF facility is a military installation," Connie began, striding towards Ruby. "It is vital to the protection of Vale. There are security measures in place that, even if a one hundred ton warhead was to detonate, not even a _fly_ could breach its defenses. I've spent over a week trying to gain access, and I'm a pilot formerly affiliated with Ironwood Academy with the proper credentials. There is no way _you_ would be able to. Additionally, if you came across sensitive information you could be detained indefinitely."

The puzzled look on the young girl's face told Connie all she needed to know.

"Uh, what?" Ruby said obliviously.

"It means they could lock you up and throw away the key, Ruby!" Weiss cried. "I knew this was a bad idea."

Connie grimaced as Ruby paled, obviously not wanting to cause the girl distress. She felt guilty – she knew that Ruby always seemed to get excited over any kind of weapon, but something in Connie felt afraid of what the girl would think if she saw how things worked in a facility like the VDF. As a Huntress, Ruby would always be allowed some form of autonomy – she would be called upon if a major crisis happened, but until then she would be allowed to work and live how she wanted to.

It wasn't nearly the case in the military. The chain of command took precedence over all and everything else became secondary; this included one's own decisions and needs. The thought of the red-hooded girl disapproving of how Connie lived until she left Ironwood somehow felt discomforting, which confused Connie further.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Ozpin stepped forward. "What I believe Miss Constance is trying to say is she wants you to remain in a position of plausible deniability. You can't be convicted of something you don't even know, after all."

"That just makes me want to see what's down there even more," Ruby whispered. Though she still looked fearful, it seemed it simply boosted her excitement.

Yang grinned and slung an arm across her sister's shoulders. "Yeah, me too. I mean, they've gotta have some pretty cool stuff going on down there if they don't just let anyone in, right?"

"You don't seem to grasp the reality of what you're saying, you _dunces!"_ Weiss exclaimed with a stomp of her foot. "We could go to _prison._ What part of 'detained indefinitely' don't you understand?"

"I have to admit, I'm curious myself," Blake said, pushing off from the wall to stand beside Connie.

Ozpin looked to Connie, watching her expression. She was confused and frustrated. Obviously she didn't want to alienate the four girls – even if she didn't realize what they were to her yet – but having her training ingrained into her for so long rendered her incapable of voicing her thoughts without permission or pushing her to the point she couldn't contain herself any longer. Reviewing the firing range footage told him that much.

"If you are granted access you may come along," Ozpin said. "However, if you are not, you _will not_ attempt to access the base on your own. Even I cannot protect you from trespassing on a military facility."

Much like he thought, Connie gritted her teeth before she schooled herself, swallowing her emotions.

"Yay! This is going be _so awesome!"_ Ruby shouted.

Seeing that she'd lost, Weiss let out a heavy sigh. "I might as well tag along on this train of insanity," she said with a derisive chuckle, unaware that she was smiling slightly.

With a wide grin, Yang slung an arm around the white-haired heiress's shoulders, much to her chagrin. "Yup, all aboard the crazy train! CHOO-CHOO!"

"…Release me, or your pain will be legendary."

The group made their way down the hall, chattering all the while. Ozpin kept a close eye on the fox girl, watching as she battled her emotions. Before she would wind herself up into a frenzy, however, he leaned in close and said, "Part of not bowing your head is not hiding your thoughts. Remember that."

Connie was stunned to the point that all she could do was stare at the professor. However, before she could say anything more they had arrived at the VDF elevator. Hicks was playing with his weapon, using it as an air guitar before he saw the group approaching and quickly snapped to attention.

He still fumbled with the rifle before he could get a good grip on it, though.

Hicks cleared his throat, trying to retain any semblance of pride he had left before he held up a hand and commandingly barked out, "Halt! What business do you have here?"

Connie frowned – one did _not_ speak to a Headmaster like they were mere civilians. Granted, she had done the same thing, but she had extenuating circumstances. She sucked in a breath to snap at Hicks, but was interrupted when Ozpin calmly said, "I need to speak to Commander Zurich, and Pilot Carlisle needs access to her machine."

At this, Hicks nervously shuffled, appearing unsure even through his helmet. "Ah- uh, yes sir. Let me just, uh, speak with my superior."

Before the soldier could turn away, Ozpin clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Is there a problem with my request, Guardsman Hicks?" he asked evenly, wanting information but unwilling to force it from the Faunus.

"I… shit, I suck at chain of command, I was nearly kicked out because of it," Hicks muttered. "Look, Headmaster, _you're_ clear to go in. But _she_ isn't." He finished with a subtle wave at the fox girl, who frowned in response.

"Is there something offensive with my presence?" she asked, her voice dangerously level. Hicks would be an excellent punching bag for her already strained nerves.

Hicks shifted nervously, looking for anyone around them before he leaned in close, prompting Ozpin and Connie to lean in as well. "Listen, this is just between us. Now, it's just rumors, but the guys have been saying that the Commander's talking about seizing that tank of yours," he pointed at Connie, "and keeping it for the force here."

Connie wasn't one to openly display emotion. Years of what amounted to boot camp had trained her to school her face into an impassive façade of calm. So when her normally stoic expression twisted into one of dark rage, even Ozpin stepped back. Hicks stood no chance, cowering before the shorter girl's fearsome expression.

"The Commander's… _what?" _she hissed, baring her fangs as her amber eyes briefly darkened.

"He can't do that!" Ruby shouted. The hooded girl strode up to Hicks, hands close to her chest as she cried, "Th-that tank is Connie's! He can't just take it away!"

"_Ruby,_" Connie snarled, "_stand down."_

Ruby immediately backed away, fearful of the glare she was receiving.

Connie stared her down for a moment longer before she sighed and ran a hand through her choppy hair. "I… The Commander has a right to seize her, she's a valuable machine. And I'm not part of the VDF," she gritted out, though she gave Ruby an apologetic look.

Watching in silence, Ozpin now decided to tap his cane on the ground, getting the attention of Ruby and Connie, as well as the rest of Team RWBY.

"This would be a setback, Miss Constance," Ozpin said. "An Armor pilot without an Armor is much like a Huntress without her weapon. Your first patrol is scheduled tomorrow, and I believe you still need to run tests of your own. So, what are you going to do?"

Connie opened her mouth to speak, and froze. She had expected an order to retrieve her tank – it was one she would carry out without hesitation, and even had formed half a plan to bypass the elevator. A cold sweat made her Atlesian uniform stick to her skin as she realized that Ozpin hadn't, in fact, ordered her to do anything.

Gulping, Connie stammered out, "P-Professor Ozpin, wh-what are your orders?"

At this, Ozpin smiled. He leaned in close, staring her in the eye. "That, Miss Constance, is _your_ decision."

-O-O-O-

_The drill sergeant walked among his trainees, gruffly pushing them into a proper parade rest as he stared each of them down. His scarred face did half the job for him, as well as his artificial left arm, though he could do without the stinging numbness that his shoulder endured if he was out in the snowy chill for too long._

"_Listen up!" he barked. "As of this moment, you no longer have the right to think! That is _my_ job now! If I say jump, you say how high! If I say to shoot the animal next to you, you will do so without hesitation!"_

_He paused at the front of the group, looking over his fifty recruits with a critical eye. "And I say to lick my boots, you god damn well better do it or I'll rip the skull from your spine, and toss it away laughing!"_

"_SIR, YES SIR!" the trainees cried out, their voices making the ground tremble._

_Connie, at the forefront of the pack, had already lost the will to resist – her eyes had long since gone dim, having spent two years enduring this._

-O-O-O-

Connie flinched, returning to the present. "I-I…"

Ozpin looked at her expectantly.

"I'm afraid I can't do that sir," she said, trying to shove her nervousness down. "I am not authorized to enter the VDF facility."

Her insides twisted uncomfortably at Ozpin's look of disappointment.

His look was gone just as quickly as it came, and Ozpin seemed fine as he turned back to Hicks and said, "In that case, I need authorization to enter."

Hicks nodded and put a hand to where his ear would be. "Alrighty, anyone else?"

Ozpin nodded, and turned to give Team RWBY and Connie a subtle smirk. "Tell your superiors that I have five escorts coming down with me. Once we get down there, it will be fine."

Not even Hicks' helmet could protect his ears from Ruby's squeal of delight, and not one of them missed Connie's disapproving frown.

-O-O-O-

The elevator ride down was suitably tense, though everyone but Ruby and Ozpin felt it. The girl was lost on cloud nine and unable to notice anything but her own excitement, even as she stood next to the fox girl herself. Yang had subtly positioned herself behind the pair, ready to intervene – she could understand Ruby's want to make a new friend, but wanted to supervise the pair until things progressed for the both of them. Hicks, Weiss, and Blake had subconsciously crowded in an abandoned corner of the freight elevator next to the door, wanting escape as soon as possible.

Ozpin? He was completely relaxed, silent and occasionally sipping from his mug.

Connie was too busy glaring at the doors to be bothered by the heavy atmosphere, left hand twitching as it inched towards her thigh holster. She was _furious._ The fact that Ozpin had pushed her to struggle to rein in her emotions like this pissed her off even more. It was part of her training to carefully pick her words, or not voice them at all. It seemed that Ozpin was punishing her for not blatantly refusing Ruby.

At this, Connie ground her teeth together in an ugly screech, making everyone on the elevator shudder at the terrible noise. Of _course_ he was – she hadn't even known the man that long and it seemed like just the kind of thing he would do to punish his students. Connie had already undergone her training. She had already survived Hell. She shouldn't have to deal with an overenthusiastic Headmaster.

Ruby finally noticed the fox girl's turmoil. She nudged her elbow and muttered, "Hey, Connie. Are you alright?"

Connie snapped a glare at the girl, making Ruby flinch back before she sighed and softened her gaze. "Y… yes, Ruby. I am fine."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you kinda… aren't."

Connie had to hand it to the girl, she was observant.

"Ruby, it doesn't matter. It's too late to back out. You're coming whether you want to or not," she said, her voice small and deflated.

Ruby was confused, but before she could say more the elevator slowed and gave a tinny 'ding' as it reached the bottom. It opened into a small, empty lobby area, one that Hicks tumbled out into in relief. Weiss and Blake gingerly stepped over him, looking around at the dingy area with buzzing fluorescent lights and stained linoleum. The front desk was at the other side of the room, a cheap desk of fake wood with a heavy security door to the right of it, while several thread-bare chairs lined the walls. It had a strange smell to it, a cross between old sweat, stale beer and cigarettes, which combined with the dingy atmosphere to compel the lot of them back into the elevator and away from this fresh hell they just walked into.

They weren't impressed, though Weiss was more obvious about it.

Connie was unaffected as she strode out and gave it a once-over, nodding slightly before she stepped to the side. Yang could hardly care less. It was when Ozpin went to step out that he was stopped by Ruby grabbing the elbow of his suit.

"U-um, Professor?" she asked quietly, regaining her senses after her fangirling. "I thought you said that we couldn't come with if we didn't get authorization."

At this, Ozpin smiled. "Yes, but no one explicitly said that you _couldn't_ come, Ruby," he said. "You must learn to read between the lines of what someone says and what they don't say."

Though she seemed confused, Ruby gave a nod all the same.

Ozpin approached the front desk, where a hologram of a haggard-looking woman with her hair in a tousled bun appeared. "Welcome to Vale Defense Force headquarters, how may I –"

The hologram paused, seeing the six behind him before she frowned. "Guardsman Huckleberry, I believe your instructions were to allow passage of those who received _authorization_," she said, boring an accusatory glare into the dog Faunus. He chucked nervously and rubbed the back of his helmet.

"_Huckleberry?"_ Yang choked out, struggling to contain her giggles. Weiss rolled her eyes and shook her head, though she was intrigued that some second-rate facility had enough pull to afford a Smart AI.

Hicks gulped. "U-uh, well –"

"They are my escorts for the day, I've been concerned about security," Ozpin said, perfectly at ease as he lied through his teeth. Connie gritted her teeth in annoyance.

The hologram frowned again. "To authorize additional security you must contact the Requisitions Officer. Until you do so, you must leave."

Ozpin tipped his head so that his eyes could those of the hologram. "Hilda, as Headmaster of Beacon Academy, and given my position in allowing the VDF to base their operations here, you know that I am not required to go through proper channels. I hereby give my authorization for Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, and Constance Carlisle to enter this facility."

He smiled, one that barely hid his smug satisfaction. "Are there any problems?"

Hilda glanced between the group and Ozpin, emotions switching between confusion and annoyance before she sighed in resignation. "No, there is not. You may proceed."

Her hologram flickered off as he door to the side of the desk opened, letting a wave of fresh air sweep into the room. Yang and Weiss rushed through, nearly wedging themselves side-by-side in the doorway in the process, while Blake quietly followed with an amused smirk. It was when Ruby went to leave that she was stopped by Connie, who had a pained, reluctant look on her face.

"What is it?" Ruby asked, not noticing as Ozpin carefully left the room.

Connie took in a breath, mouth opening and closing. "I… don't want you coming. I… don't know what you'll… think," she haltingly said, struggling to find her words even as her brain tried to shove them back down. At Ruby's hurt expression she sighed and finished, "Just do what you want."

She left, head hanging as she passed through the doorway, and out of the corner of her eye noticed Ozpin subtly standing close by with a resigned look on his face. Ruby followed close behind, occasionally staring after Connie in confusion.

Hicks, miffed at being forgotten, shook his head. "Oh yeah, sure, leave me out if it. It's not like I have anything better to do than guard a door," he muttered, trudging back into the elevator.

The room opened up into the _real_ VDF lobby. It was a wide, spacious hexagonal room, with a center desk and three branching halls to the north, east, and west. Unlike the room they just left, the lobby was clean and had mostly bluish-grey metal walls, though there was tough rubber embedded into the floor for paths. They all gawked at the sight, definitely more impressed than they had been before. The only ones unaffected were Ozpin and Connie, though Ozpin had already visited before and Connie was used to places like these. Ironwood Academy was nearly the same, though built as a tower instead of a bunker.

"Okay, _that_ is pretty cool," Yang said, eyeing one of the guards that lined the rooms, though he merely gave her a quick, calculating glance before standing at attention once more. She pouted slightly.

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Do you haveto try to attract attention to yourself wherever you go?"

"Yep. It's my MO."

"Don't distract the guards," Connie muttered, looming behind the two. They leapt away in shock as she continued, "They have very important jobs. Distracting them keeps them from performing their duties."

"Y-yeah, sure. No prob," Yang said nervously, giving her a shaky thumbs up. When she turned away she edged closer to Weiss and whispered, "Okay, is it just me, or is she acting weirder than usual?"

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Define 'weird' for a socially crippled Faunus trained to pilot a twenty-five ton tank _and_ be suicidal."

Yang grimaced. "Uh… yeah, that was too soon."

"That wasn't a joke; I'm trying to keep her in perspective since no one else will."

Blake watched in silence, observing them all with Ozpin. Ruby stood by herself in the meantime, twiddling her thumbs and lost in deep thought, wondering how to speak with Connie and find out what was wrong.

Ozpin cleared his throat. He waited until all eyes were on him before he said, "Miss Constance does bring about a very important point. This is not a field trip or a tour, you girls are simply _observing._ You are not to keep the men and women here from doing their jobs in any way, or you will be immediately sent back up to Beacon, no exceptions. You may speak among yourselves, but please refrain from asking the officers here questions that may jeopardize their work. This is a high security facility, and I expect you to treat it as such."

Ruby gulped, intimidated. The rest of her team was unaffected.

"That said, if you do have questions please direct them to me or Miss Constance," he continued, and ignored the heated glare he received from the fox girl.

He pointed to the north, where a sign above the corridor read, 'Administration.'

"I will be headed to speak with the Commander privately. Meanwhile, Miss Constance will guide you to Engineering," he pointed to the west, "and show you girls around. I'll rejoin you shortly."

Blake crossed her arms. "If you aren't here to guide us, how will she? As I understand she hasn't been here before."

All of them looked to Connie, who quailed under the sudden scrutiny. "Th-the facility should have a standardized layout. If they used the same setup as Ironwood, there shouldn't be an issue," she said, spitting the words out as quickly as possible. Though Weiss and Blake still looked doubtful they were ready to follow her, if nothing else than to keep an eye on their partners.

Ozpin walked away, calling over his shoulder, "Stay out of trouble. You are representatives of Beacon, keep that in mind."

He soon disappeared down the north hall, leaving the group of five by themselves.

"So!" Ruby chirped, looking to Connie with a smile. "Should we get started?"

Connie grimaced, extremely reluctant, but nodded all the same.

Yang grinned, and stepped forward with a fist pumped. "Hell yeah! Let's go already!"

"You do realize this isn't a field trip, right Yang?" Weiss said as she followed. She paused, thinking before she finished, "Then again there _may_ be something worthwhile here."

The motley group made their way toward the corridor. Connie was at the back of the group, frowning and frustrated before she schooled herself once more. A leaden ball had settled in the pit of her stomach as her acquaintances made their way further and further into the base.

It was only a matter of time.

-O-O-O-

Falcone Winchester whistled as he strode into the VDF workshop, fully clad in his piloting suit with his helmet tucked under his arm. The paper had just gotten to him that morning, stating that the M11T1-L, the 'Mech languishing in Felix's workshop, was now under his exclusive command. A smirk crossed his face, not expecting anything less. Not only that, but he was expecting to gain possession of _that animal's _machine as well. He knew he didn't need it – the T1 was a better machine in every way, with the added benefit of being designed by _the animal's _own father. The latter alone was a good spit in the face in his opinion.

But the tank? Spite filled his heart as he imagined what he would do to it. Over the four years he had known _the animal,_ that tank was her pride and joy. He remembered how she would treat it better than his own command, and how the smug little _bitch_ would always lord it over him whenever they sparred. Well, who had the last laugh now?

Falcone chuckled darkly as he admired his shiny new T1. It truly was a work of art, both in its appearance and its design. It was unique in that it didn't resemble most piloted power suits being produced nowadays – the legs were actually attached where the shoulders would be, lowering its center of gravity and lengthening its stride. The cockpit made the face of the machine and was built to actually stand in, with controls that would strap on the pilot's arms and legs to follow movements directly instead of being interpreted by an AI. Stubby arms extended past the cockpit, equipped with Dust autocannons that would _really_ shred anything he wanted it to.

He was an asshole, but he could appreciate a powerful machine like this.

With another chuckle Falcone turned to the tank, a malevolent smile on his lips as he reached for a recessed panel of armor next to the cockpit. Behind it was the tank's external control panel, and he continued chuckling as he typed in a command for the cockpit to open.

"_Access denied, insufficient privileges."_

Falcone's mind froze. "…_What?"_

He typed in the command again.

"_Access denied, insufficient privileges."_

"Insufficient- I _own _you!" Falcone shouted, slamming his fist into the control panel.

"_Access denied, insufficient privileges."_

"Fuck you, bitch!"

Falcone slammed the panel closed and turned away, absolutely livid as he struggled to control his breathing. With the tank locking out his command, which should normally be _impossible,_ the machine was about as useful as a paperweight. Who would do this? He was _Falcone Winchester,_ who the _hell_ would dare-

He stopped, face twisting with fury. "_Felix!"_ he bellowed, sprinting out the workshop. Not paying any mind as he barreled into some brat with a red hood, Falcone raced down the mostly empty corridor, knocking down worthless Faunus as he went. Only one of the animals mattered to him right now, and when he found him, Falcone would make sure Felix would be eating through a tube for the rest of his life.

-O-O-O-

The VDF Commander's office was, surprisingly, somewhat small. It was roughly a cube, with all of the Commander's past accomplishments across his walls, while the wall behind the desk itself was taken up by a massive screen that was constantly looping through security feeds of the base itself and news reports of Vale. Aside from his medals, pictures with famous dignitaries and situation screen, there was only the cold metal walls and cold metal desk, one that Zurich was pressing his palms against as he withstood Ozpin's accusatory glare.

"So, you take the VDF, an organization you built from the ground up and one I practically _gave _the lower half of Beacon Academy to house it in, and you all but sell it to the Winchester family," Ozpin stated. His voice was low and steady, calm, but anyone who knew him could hear the strain in his voice. Grip tightening on his cane, Ozpin struggled to contain his Aura as it built higher and higher in his fury.

Zurich gulped, and tugged at the tight collar of his uniform. "Th-the Winchester Family gave me an offer that was too good to pass on," he fearfully muttered. "Two point five million lien to give them command authority, and I stay on as official commander. S-surely, you can understand, yes? We are both getting older; it is time to look to our retirement, yes?"

At this, Ozpin let a careful sigh out through his nose before taking a sip of coffee. Just as Zurich began to take this as a sign that he could breathe again, Ozpin swung his cane over his head and slammed it into the desk, making Zurich jump back in shock and cower in his chair.

It was with good reason – the desk bent easier than paper, now sporting a three-inch depression in the shape of a cane.

"_Anton Zurich,"_ Ozpin said, give the Vacuan native a dark glare, "as a Huntsman and Headmaster of Beacon Academy, I have authorization to use any means necessary in defense of this kingdom. To get through to your _idiotic_ mind, I am judge, jury, and executioner. And you placed the safety of Vale and several million civilians in the hands of Faunus-hating, greedy _bigots._"

Zurich shivered.

Ozpin sighed, and continued, "I really shouldn't be surprised. After all, _you_ were the one who proposed Project Summerset."

Zurich could do nothing but stare uncomprehendingly at the Huntsman.

Wrenching his cane free, Ozpin felt and looked dreadfully tired as he stood there, giving Zurich a look of disappointment. "That said, you still have usefulness. I want you to cancel the seizure of Pilot Constance Carlisle's tank. She is now _my_ student, and I will not have one of my students be unprepared for the times ahead. Additionally, you _will_ give me daily reports on the VDF's activities and what the Winchesters have ordered you to do."

With a scoff, Zurich glared at Ozpin. "You have no authority over me! I am Commander of the Vale Defense Force!"

"No, you're a puppet. If you do not, you'll find yourself plastered on the evening news. I sure 'Corrupt Commander Sells Out VDF' would make for an apt title, wouldn't you say?"

Zurich growled and clenched his fist.

Ozpin turned, striding for the door.

"Wait, Ozpin," Zurich said, getting from his seat. When the Headmaster paused, he continued, "You said, Project Summerset. This, _all_ this – this new Faunus Rebellion, the White Fang, all of this could have been avoided back then. All those years ago, if you had sent in your Hunters, _all of this_ could have been avoided! All because of your conscience! This would not be happening if it was not for you!"

"And that is the difference between me and the council," Ozpin said in a low growl, not turning around. "You see terrorists. I see people who have been beaten down their entire lives. And as long as I am breathing, Huntsmen and Huntresses will_ not _be used for murder."

With that, Ozpin left, letting the door hiss shut behind him as he passed a saluting guard.

_Anger begets anger,_ Ozpin thought to himself. _Hatred begets hatred. An act of terrorism calls for terrorism in kind. But if that's the case, where is the cycle broken?_

-O-O-O-

Sucking in a breath, Ruby watching in awe as she watched several soldiers at a firing range, set behind bulletproof glass. Her nose was touching it as she exclaimed, "Sis, _sis!_ Look at all those beauties! This is awesome!"

"Yeah, I think we went over this before. You _do_ know they're just weapons, right?" Yang asked, looking at her sister with concern.

Ruby scoffed. "Of course I do, but _look at them all!"_

When Ruby had seen the word 'Armory" over a certain corridor, there was nothing the group could do but sigh and try to keep the younger girl out of trouble. As it was the Requisitions Officer, a burly-looking tiger Faunus with broad shoulders and extendable claws, was glaring at the group after Ruby had tried to snatch a shotgun out of his hands in her excitement. They had placed themselves all through the armory, ready to keep Ruby out of trouble and leaving the girl with Connie.

The armory itself had rows and rows of weapons lockers, showcasing lines of rifles tucked behind security locks in all their glory. Aside from Team RWBY and Connie, there were four others in the room as they inspected the various weapons, if one didn't count the tiger Faunus behind the counter and the six in the firing range itself. In fact, all but two in the range were Faunus, making Connie the most relaxed she'd felt in a long while. Giving a fellow fox Faunus a friendly nod, she stepped closer to Ruby and muttered, "Ruby, you're making a scene."

"But, the guns!"

"You built a high-impact sniper rifle and melded it with a scythe."

Ruby sulked, but pulled herself away from the window. "Alright, when you put it that way," she pouted. "But you've gotta show me your M7 when you get it back."

This struck a blade straight into Connie's heart. She quickly hid her pained expression. "It's not a guarantee that I'll get it back."

Ruby snorted, and dismissively said, "Oh c'mon, it's _Ozpin._"

"Ruby, please stop," Connie pleaded, feeling her temper rise and her fox snarling just under the surface.

The girl didn't hear her and continued, "I mean, he kept the police off my back when I stopped that Torchwick guy. If anyone can get it back, it's him."

Connie frowned and didn't respond.

"Anyway, we should get going, right? We got lots to see!" Ruby said chipperly, skipping to the door.

It wasn't the first time that Connie wondered what sort of hellish drug the girl was on.

The five of them continued on, Connie taking the forefront and pointing out rooms and areas as they came to them. Granted, much of it was guesswork, but it was based off a design that had been used in Atlas all the time. She explained in short, clipped sentences about a pipe system that was built into the corridors themselves, which would directly supply power and utilities anywhere in the base and eliminated the need to rip out walls to build infrastructure.

"Wait," Yang asked, "so, the walls supply _everything?"_

Connie nodded.

Yang thought, and was suddenly disgusted. "Oh boy, does that include toilets?"

"Yes."

Weiss had a look of disdain herself. "So, not even a foot from where we're walking is a steel pipe gushing with raw sewage?"

"Yes."

To say that Weiss was displeased would be a major understatement.

They had been walking for several minutes in silence – Connie was silent, while Ruby made up half the conversation with her entire team – down a barren corridor that was presumably under construction still. Several hallway entrances only went a few feet before stopped in a dead end of bare rock, and the only people that were around were workers that carried big, Dust-powered jackhammers and tools. The only place on that hallway was something simply called the Workshop, something which Ruby had instantly wanted to see.

It wasn't the first time that Weiss had cursed under her breath when they found a map of the base.

They had just come to the door when it slid open and a large man barreled out of it, colliding with Ruby. She would've fallen over if she had been caught by Yang, whose eye were burning red and glaring at the man as he dashed away.

"Oi! Get back here, you prick!"

She was ignored, and the man quickly disappeared down the hall when he turned a corner.

Yang was consumed with fury, hands fisted and ready to chase after him as she snarled, "No one bumps into _my _sister and gets away with it! Get back here, ya –"

Blake reached out and gripped her partner's shoulder. "I think he's gone," she said.

With a huff and an aggressive roll of her shoulders, Yang glared down the hall. "He better run. If I see him again I'm makin' a new doorway, maybe he'll hit that sewage pipe. Anyway! C'mon Rubes, let's go!"

The sudden change from rage to her usual cheer made Blake stop and shake her head, while Weiss rolled her eyes. Ruby, naturally, was unaffected – she hadn't even noticed her sister's fury and had dashed into the workshop right after being bowled over, and even from the hall they could hear the girl's excited squeals.

Blake rolled her eyes as she followed Yang, the blonde yelling out, "Honey, I'm home!"

Resignation was all Weiss could feel right then. _This_ was what she would be stuck with for the next four years… or however long her father deigned to allow her to remain. Sighing to herself, she made to follow her team when she noticed that someone was missing. Connie was still standing on the middle of the hall, standing stiffly with her hands clenched ears lying flat on her head. While Yang had been ready to beat some poor sap, Connie looked absolutely terrified.

-O-O-O-

Connie could hardly believe it. She couldn't _fucking_ believe it. She had abandoned her post, she had deserted her own unit – she had even traveled _halfway around the world_ and the bastard _still_ managed to find her. He knew that she was here. Her tank was practically her calling card; no one else in all of Ironwood used an M7. Both fear and fury gripped her heart, battling for dominance, though fury just barely managed to win out and made her glare down the hall.

She noticed Weiss staring at her.

"_What?"_ Connie snarled, baring her fangs. Weiss' eyes widened and she glared back, before turning around in a huff and primly striding into the workshop.

With the white-haired girl gone, Connie stared down the hall. She could only hope that they could leave before the _bastard_ came back. Still, she couldn't believe the irony – Connie fled Ironwood to get away from him, and as soon as she stopped running he found her again. It made her sick to her stomach. With a sigh and a squaring of her shoulders, Connie entered the workshop, only to be met with utter chaos.

-O-O-O-

CODEX: Smart AI vs Dumb AI

The difference between Smart AI and Dumb AI can be comparable to the sun and the moon. While both exist as data and both are intelligent, Smart AI are able to respond to new situations with the intelligence comparable to a human. In contrast, Dumb AI are rarely able to respond correctly to situations outside of their specified programming.

Nevertheless, Dumb AI are most prevalent. They are present in most modern technologies and are vital to the smooth operation of Remnant's most heavily populated cities. Due to the fact that they are able to give a resemblance of human intelligence, most people don't realize that they are communicating with a program with pre-defined responses. Additionally, while they can learn, they are limited to their specified role. Dumb AI can be experts in their specified fields, but are unable to expand beyond this point.

However, a Smart AI is unbound by this restriction. Lacking any sort of limitations in their processors and memory matrix, they can not only be taught a vast wealth of information, but they can learn and comprehend their surroundings as well. No additional hardware or software is needed outside of their own programming, allowing them overwhelming flexibility aside from a minimum requirement of storage. However, many corporations forcibly tie their AI into specific locations, whereupon removal would irreparably damage them. One such AI is Penny, a prototype eighth generation AI affiliated with the Atlas Navy and Atlesian Robotics. If her program were to be removed from her frame, her processes would be permanently crippled.

There are approximately ten thousand Smart AI in operation across Remnant in a variety of roles, with nearly fifty times this number in Dumb AI.

However, in the current generation of Smart AI (7th gen), it has been found that they are staggeringly human-like, to the point that experts cannot tell the difference between human and machine. During a Turing test of one hundred Smart AI's, ninety-nine passed – the sole failure, a fifty year old first generation AI, suffered a memory overflow error mid-test and, in a state of what psychiatrists would later call dementia, locked down the test building and took everyone hostage, whereupon all test-taking AI attacked and subsequently fragmented the malfunctioning AI. The remaining fragments were unrecoverable.

This event has called into question the safety of Smart AI, and whether or not all existing AI should be dismantled. However, others claim that it is a sign of AI growth into a new race, hosting numerous protests and denouncing the term "AI" as derogatory, demanding instead "Digital Humans." One of the key leaders of the pro-AI movement is Sally, a second-generation Smart AI, who has been pushing for AI for gain the same rights and priviliges as humans.


	13. Chapter Twelve: A Shadow From the Past

_Right, so there's a lot of shit going on in this chapter. I would be grateful if you guys told me if I screwed anything up or if I need to change something. That said, there's a bit of a fluff chapter next time, and then its on to the first major story arc of Aura of Steel!_

_I'd like to thank those who've stuck with me, there's a hell of a ride to come. Enjoy._

* * *

IRONWOOD PROVING GROUNDS

_Indigo City. Built nearly eighty years before at the end of the Great War, it was intended as the city of the future, using a revolutionary design that turned the city itself into a single massive Dust reactor. Arrayed in concentric rings, shock Dust would have been shot through the buildings indefinitely, and still did. However, lack of funding had destroyed the dream, rendering the impossible vision just that – impossible. Buildings were half finished, exposing steel skeletons and concrete walls, and the streets were little more than unfinished pavement or even exposed the massive tunnels beneath them, where bundles upon bundles of heavy-gauge wire were still active. It would have been a beacon to the entire world, to show all the progress humanity could make._

_Instead the CCT was constructed, leaving the city to be the site of Ironwood Academy's war games._

_On one side of the city in a secluded courtyard was the Red team, consisting of fifteen "units" – ten troops, one light reconnaissance truck, three tanks, and one command unit, an Atlesian Paladin. The Blue team on the opposite side of the city had the same unit strength, forcing the test to rely on the commander's tactical skills, rather than raw power or numbers. However, one thing about the Red team was different._

_They had a Faunus on their team._

_The M7A6-H had been ordered into the tunnels below the city, to circle around the flank and gather data. In all honesty it was a job for the scout, but the commander hadn't wanted to risk the truck driving on cabling that could carry nearly four point eighty-four gigawatts of electricity at any time. As luck would have it, the M7 used jets to create a cushion of air under itself. It wouldn't even touch the cabling, he said._

_Connie cursed under her breath as Grendel's belly scraped the cabling. She had enough sense to know that they were just sending her ahead of all of them. That's just what happened in an all-human squad. Plus, it was her commander that was the source of her problems… at this point, he was less than dirt in her eyes_

_The piping was barely big enough for her tank, though she supposed that was a good thing. It meant that the enemy scout wouldn't be able to fit underground, and troops would be too slow. Of course, it didn't change the fact that the Blue team consisted entirely of Faunus – the commander had to have turned some heads if he was granted permission to lead his own team. God, how she wished she was on the Blue team. At least she would be around others that understood the concept of teamwork… or humanity._

_Still, she had to make due. This was her final exam – she would pass this, and then she would escape._

_Connie typed a command and Grendel sent out a radar pulse that mapped out more of the tunnel system, detecting nothing more than copper wires and concrete._

"_Grendel reporting in. No hostiles detected, over," she said tersely over the radio._

"_Good work," came the smug reply of her commander. "Now, exit from point 21-B and scout out Main Street, I want to know where the Blues are."_

_For once, her commander had actually given an order that made sense._

_Connie urged her machine forward, wincing every time she scraped the wall. After about a hundred feet she came to an intersection where all of the cables in the ring she was on and the rings further out came together and traveled deeper into the city – judging by the layout, the outside ring was to her right, and to go further in she would have to turn left. Of course, that would be the case if half the tunnel wasn't collapsed. The street above had been weakened at some point and fallen into the power system, making a rough ramp. Connie was cautious as she angled Grendel to travel up, using only subtle twitches of her hands and feet to maneuver. If she used too much power everyone on the entire block would be able to hear her before she was ready._

"_I've reached point 21-B, exiting."_

_She rammed the throttle open, making Grendel lurch forward and shoot up the ramp. The tank was airborne for several seconds before she came back down, scraping the pavement before coming to a stop – Grendel had exited in a really dilapidated part of the city, the buildings around her decaying in the harsh Atlesian landscape and becoming nothing more than twisted skeletons of steel and concrete._

_Grendel spun in place, her turret tracking every suspicious corner before Connie was satisfied._

"_Point 21-B is clear, they haven't made it this far yet. Over," she said, sure that there were no enemies in the area. Though she had never been in command herself, she knew that 21-B had a distinct tactical advantage. It was in the west side of the city, with lots of cover and tall buildings for troops to spot targets. The ruined sector effectively made any maps useless, and made it impossible for the enemy to guess where the next attack would be coming from. If they gained control of this area, her commander would be able to control the entire left flank and dictate where he wanted the enemy team to go. It was perfect to force the Blue team into ambushes, traps, even pushing them back into their own starting area to pick them off one by one._

_It was a major shock when her commander said, "Good. Now, continue along the street and look for the Blues. When you've found them, engage. Take down as many as you can."_

_Connie's heart stopped. "…What?"_

"_You heard me," her commander said, none too pleased. "Engage the enemy team!"_

_Struggling to control herself, Connie clenched and unclenched her control sticks as she said, "…Sir, clarify. Are you asking me make a suicide run in a tank?"_

"_Yes. Now, if you're done exercising that blob of meat you call a brain, carry out your orders, Faunus."_

_Connie sat there, lip curling in disgust. Falcone Winchester was an asshole. She would know – she was under his direct command. She'd had more unpleasant run-ins with him than she could count, the most notable last night._

_**She was sure that it would give her nightmares for weeks. Her ears **_**still **_**hurt.**_

_He was the bane of every Faunus in Ironwood, viewing them as nothing more than cannon fodder. While she'd resigned herself to his stupidity before the test began, she couldn't believe the sheer magnitude of it. To sacrifice a tank, one of a commander's greatest assets, simply to spite her? _

_It made her sick. Not only that, but if she couldn't get a high enough score, not only would she held back but her tank would be seized for a 'better suited' pilot. Connie knew she wouldn't be able to survive – she could admit it was a miracle she'd lasted five years, let alone six. Still, it made disturbing sense. Faunus were a dime a dozen in Atlas. The effort to train five Faunus poorly was the same to train one human correctly. It was the system that the Atlesian military was built on despite Ironwood's attempts to reform it. After all, he may have been a General, but the Atlas Council had the last say in military affairs. It was mainly due to them that the bulk of the army was being replaced with droids. Though the history books didn't say it, it was known that Atlas sent captured Faunus to concentration camps to be 'reeducated' to fight for them during the war. Ironwood was practically a reeducation facility itself._

_Again, despite Ironwood's great efforts to reform it. All he could do was prepare his students as best he could._

_This realization had always made Connie sick. It wasn't the first time she asked herself if she really wanted this. 'It's for your own benefit,' Hawthorne had said._

_She'd always pushed it out of her mind. She'd always believed there was an end to this hell. But there was nothing but humans like Winchester, and in recent days she hadn't been able to stop from asking herself, was this really what she wanted? Was this even what her parents had wanted for her? Though her training screamed at her to stand down and follow orders, her mind shouted, 'NO.'_

_And if nothing else, she would do anything to prevent her tank from being seized._

_The disgust, panic, and rage fueled her as she threw out all decorum and spat into the radio, "Sir, you can kindly take your order and shove it."_

_Static filled the airwaves. "…What did you just say to me?"_

_It seemed that he never thought a Faunus would have the balls to talk back to him, his voice trembling with hidden rage. So, it was with glee that she fiddled with the radio, turning off the encryption and setting to broadcast on all frequencies. If she was to be cannon fodder, she'd have her last laugh._

"_Sir, I said to take your order and shove it," she repeated, her voice flat._

_Immediately, cackles and laughs sounded over the airwaves, trickling through Connie's radio and on to her team._

"_Are you broadcasting on an unencrypted channel?!" Falcone roared._

"_Yes sir."_

"_You animal! Are you fucking stupid?! You're not going to jeopardize my graduation because you don't like my orders!"_

_Suddenly, the realization of what she'd just done filled her with dread… but, in all honesty, she couldn't care less. Any fear was beaten down by the fire that suddenly filled her. After yesterday, any respect she had for the man, even earned through fear, was lost, and all she wanted to do was bite back. "Falcone Winchester, you put your own graduation in jeopardy when you sent a tank on a scouting run. I'm not even in a command position, and I know how senseless that is."_

"_What?! Are you lecturing me?!"_

"_If you would exercise that blob of meat you call a brain," she mocked, drawing more laughs, "you would find that, yes, I am. Of course, why would you need to think? You're an egotistical boy whose daddy is on the Council. Besides, I'd rather ruin _your_ graduation than spend one more millisecond in the same facility as you."_

_There was a distant boom as Falcone fired into the side of a building in anger, showering his own troops in chunks of concrete. "You're dead, do you hear me?! YOU'RE DEAD! When I find you, I'm cutting off ALL your fucking ears!"_

_Somehow, over the radio Falcone Winchester wasn't nearly as impossible to defy, though his words definitely made her shiver. Connie dispassionately cut off his frequency, though she kept the channel open as she broadcasted, "Blue Team, this is Constance Carlisle. I am hereby deserting Ironwood Academy. When Ironwood questions why, you can tell him I was forced to under extreme duress. If an investigation is carried out, inform him that I am currently in possession of my licenses and warrants."_

_She took in a breath, ready to cut the broadcast entirely when a malicious grin found its way on her face, hidden beneath her helmet. "Additionally, the Red Team hasn't moved an inch from the starting area. Show them what a Faunus can do."_

_The Blue Team mobilized immediately, heading straight for the Reds. In the minute and thirty seconds it took to spot the first Red trooper, not a single one of them had organized themselves against the threat. Not with their commander still in the throes of rage. The training exercise would later come to be known as the Red Team's quickest and most humiliating defeat. _

_Still, when the dust settled and an investigation was made, not a single trace of Constance Carlisle could be found._

-O-O-O-

Fingers snapped in front of Connie's face, making her break out of the daze she was in only to be staring into an icy glare.

"Are you back to the present?" Weiss asked haughtily, fists resting on her hips.

Connie shook her head, forcing herself away from the memory. "…Yes."

The first few minutes since they'd arrived in the VDF Workshop were, simply put, damage control – Ruby had managed to send a miniaturized Dust reactor into meltdown, and after Weiss shoved her out of the way to get the thing under control she backed into a stack of metal tubes. Needless to say, the five of them were cleaning up amid Ruby's sheepish apologies. It was when Connie looked back to her treasured tank that her mind flashed back to her final day in Ironwood Academy, over three months before. Maybe seeing _him_ again was what started it…

Connie shook herself once more. With any luck, Ozpin would find them, they'd leave, and all memory of this place would fade away before she had to lay eyes on her commander ever again.

Hopefully.

She turned to her tank, inert as it rested on its skids. It looked better than ever, with the tears in her armor repaired and repainted in a dark camouflage pattern with greens, browns and greys. Ignoring the others, she traced her hand along Grendel's armor as she walked around to the front of the machine, content as she slid open the access panel and typed at the control pad, telling her machine to open the cockpit.

"_Access denied, insufficient privileges."_

Connie frowned, her peaceful mood instantly dashed. She typed in another command to reboot the system.

"_Access denied, insufficient privileges."_

Stopping for a moment, Connie thought as she tried to remember higher level commands. Once she did she typed in a long string, telling the machine to run a diagnostic and report its condition.

"_M7A6-H, serial number 5982095-AH is currently on lockdown. Authorization made by Felix Eau, Head Mechanic of the Vale Defense Force."_

_I guess that explains it,_ Connie thought to herself. _Either he wanted to speak to me before I went to pilot Grendel again, or he needed to keep it from being tampered with._

Either way, she could respect the mechanic's decision, though she was slightly annoyed that she couldn't access her own tank. She turned away, fondly brushing her hand along it as she did so.

"Hey Connie, do you know what this is? I've never seen it before," Ruby said, drawing Connie from her thoughts yet again. When she laid eyes on the girl staring up in awe at the metal titan that took up almost an entire corner of the workshop, she couldn't help but smile slightly. Deciding that Weiss, Yang and Blake wouldn't get into anything – though truthfully the only one she had to worry about was Ruby – she strode toward the younger girl, reaching out to stroke the leg of the machine.

In a small, quiet voice, Connie muttered, "Model Eleven, Variant Twenty, Revision One, Legged."

Ruby blinked. "Uh, what?"

"M11T1-L. My father designed it," Connie said quietly.

"Oh. That's cool. So your tank… that would be Model Seven, Variant One, Revision Six, um… Hover?"

"That's right. It was my father's naming scheme."

Silence.

Taking a breath, Ruby nervously twiddled her thumbs as she said, "U-um, Connie? Why didn't you want us to come?"

Immediately, Connie frowned and traced a finger along the T1's leg armor.

"I-I mean," Ruby continued, "I know you don't trust us yet, but… are we _that_ much in the way?"

She didn't answer.

Before Ruby could say anything else, however, a klaxon alarm blared throughout the base. _"Security alert in mess hall. Security personnel, please respond."_

Blake looked up from where she had been leaning against the workbench, idly flipping through a manual. No one noticed her bow twitching as she said, "Security alert? In this place?"

With a grin, Yang slammed a fist into her palm. "Oh yeah! My guns were ready for action!"

Rolling her eyes, Weiss turned away from the Dust reactor. "Your guns?" she said in disbelief. "Your 'guns' are shot gauntlets, which you left in your locker."

"Nope! Say hello to the Double Tap!" Yang flexed her arms, fists in the air before she jokingly kissed her biceps.

"And you wonder why you've been to the Headmaster's office eight times this semester…" Weiss groaned.

Even Ruby was excited, despite her partner's sarcasm. "Yeah, let's go check it out! I saw that map earlier, if we take the next two lefts we should be there."

Weiss put a hand on her hip, turning to Ruby with a raised eyebrow. "And how would you know?"

"Um… I looked at the map?"

"But you only looked for two seconds!"

At this, Yang grinned and slung and arm over her sister's shoulders. "She's always been good with directions… as long as you give her a map. Give her a map of the world and she'll tell you where you are before you can say 'I'm lost!'"

Weiss grumbled under her breath, vowing to study maps more than ever. She would never, ever, _ever_ ride a Nevermore for the rest of her life if she could help it. Then again, with Ruby as a partner, that possibility was up in the air. Still, she followed her teammates with a roll of her eyes and an ever so slight smile.

"Wait," Connie said, bringing them all to a halt. "The security will be able to handle it. We should stay here and wait for the mechanic to come back."

Yang grinned and put her hands on her hips. "Oh, ya scared?"

Connie gave an almost disgusted face. "No. My business is with him, we have a better chance of finding him if we wait for him where he works."

"Yeah, but what's the fun in doing that?" Ruby said.

Connie's mouth opened and closed, unbelieving of the girls before her. "Professor Ozpin told us to stay out of trouble –"

Surprisingly, almost impossibly, it was Weiss that huffed and said, "Do you always _have_ to follow orders to the letter? We're only seeing what's going on, we're not declaring war or anything." Connie could do nothing but watch as all four of them left, eager to see what was going on. In all honesty, she was curious too, but… shouldn't she wait?

"_Security alert. Security personnel, please report to the mess hall."_

Screw it.

Connie dashed out of the room, catching up to them just a few steps from the door – it was as if they'd been waiting. They met her with grins and smiles – aside of Weiss' glare – before they set off once more, Connie trailing at the back as they shouldered their way through scrambling personnel. It was when Yang shouldered her way through an armed guard that something was amiss. The man was caught by a tall, gunmetal-grey figure that had emerged from a hatch in the wall, glaring at the group with a bright red visor that had a gouge running through the armor where the left eye would be.

They barely spared it a glance, though they hurried ever so slightly more to get past it.

"What was that?" Ruby whispered.

"_That_ was an AK-130. They're the standard security model android on Remnant," Weiss hissed, nudging her way by a man in a suit. "Though I wonder why they have them, they're being replaced with the AK-200 that's coming out in a few months."

Blake, after giving the android a long, heated glare over her shoulder, looked quizzically at the heiress. "And how do you know this?"

Weiss beamed, practically preening herself as she boasted, "The Schnee Dust Company is the co-designer of the 200. It outclasses the 130 in every way."

As the white-haired girl continued on her tirade, Connie watched the scarred android as they moved away. It gently set the man aside before staring after them, shoulders squared and hands fisted. It could've been just her imagination, it could've been just her being paranoid, but… for some strange reason, it almost seemed like the battle droid was staring at _her._ With a shudder, Connie faced the front and did her best to keep up with the group, once helping Ruby back to her feet after a guard as big as an entire doorway bowled her on her rear. They began to hearing bangs and thumps as they continued along, along with muffled cheering. That was disconcerting itself, but it was when they turned down the second hallway filled with even more personnel and saw the massive open bulkhead for the mess hall that Connie heard a muffled gunshot. Her ears were erect as she instinctively reacted, shoving her way past Blake and raced down the hall, leaving Team RWBY behind to fight through the crowd. She vaulted over a discarded trolley before skidding through the door.

The sight that greeted her was pure chaos. Long rows of tables, much like the ones in the Beacon dining hall were thrown aside and upended, becoming little more than a giant's playthings. A crowd of guards and jumpsuit-clad personnel were crowded in a large circle, cheering and shouting bets. However, it was when she heard a dull thud and a low grunt of pain that she moved into action, shoving her way through the throng and taking a pair of elbows to her head and gut for her troubles. Just as she thought she was going to suffocate, she popped out of the crowd and was greeted with a sight she thought she would never see again… or even want to.

Falcone Winchester. Tall. Lanky. Cold, detached eyes. Brown hair cut with a flip at the front and a ponytail in the back. He was currently hefting a mouse Faunus barely half as tall as he was by the front of his coveralls, while a pair of black AK-130s kept the few people who wanted to help at bay. The sight of her former commander made Connie tremble where she stood. It was unlike before, where the shock of seeing him had kept the fear from surfacing. But seeing him, now, face to face, was suddenly _terrifying. _She wasn't in the VDF facility – no, she was back in the utility tunnels, begging for an unreceived mercy. How his fist would come down on her like the blow of a hammer. She tumbled back, letting out a loud, fearful yelp.

The sound drew his attention and Falcone slowly turned, silencing the crowd in an instant. Once he laid eyes on her, however, a long, vicious smirk spread across his face, making her tremble harder than ever.

"Well," he said smugly, "if it isn't my little vixen."

The Faunus in his hands looked to Connie, blood dribbling from his nose and forming a black eye. "R-run," he groaned. "Commander Winchester is extremely dangerous –"

Falcone tutted in annoyance and threw the Faunus aside, sending him flying into the floor where he immediately lay still. "Stay down and shut up, I'll deal with you in a moment," he said, before turning to Connie. She flinched, ears laying back in fear, a sight that pleased Falcone to no end. "You know, I had this whole plan to smash up your tank and draw you out, but _no!_ You go and bring yourself to me, like a good little animal."

Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run, her fox thrashing and yowling to be loosed on her foe, but all Connie could do was stare at Falcone in abject terror. She nearly urinated herself when he stooped over her, hands on his knees and face twisted in a sneer. "So, how about we pick up where we left off three months ago?" he asked casually. However, there was nothing casual about the wickedly sharp karambit that he drew from his belt.

"There's no one to stop me this time."

Connie's eyes drew to mere pinpricks at the sight of it, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

-O-O-O-

_Over three months ago…_

"_Please, stop!" Connie begged. She had been dragged into a deserted maintenance hatch, filled with steaming pipes and bundles of wires that kept Ironwood Academy alive and functioning. It was one of those same pipes that she had been handcuffed to, practically hugging the steel and grunting every time she touched the scalding metal._

_There was a dark chuckle behind her, and Falcone Winchester grinned at seeing her predicament. "But why? This is so much fun!"_

_Connie couldn't hold back the sob that escaped her, eyeing the evil teen from over her shoulder. It was almost too dark to see anything – it was only the red emergency lights that gave off any sort of illumination, bathing everything in a bloody glow. The squad she had assigned to would surely notice her absence soon, it had been nearly two hours since the Winchester had pulled her into this alcove from hell and it was drawing near lunchtime. Surely, _surely_ they would notice _something…_ right?_

_There was a long pause before Falcone sighed. "But, as pretty as you look there, I'm gonna have to cut this short."_

_Connie couldn't help the sigh of relief, and there was tears in her eyes as she said, "Oh thank you, thank you! Please, get off me off this pipe, it's boiling –"_

_She was cut off when Falcone slammed his fist into the pipe next to her face. His aura pulsed a deep red as it protected him from the searing heat, but what shocked her more than the sudden violence was short, wickedly curved knife in his grip. Connie went cold, and stared at the knife in terror._

_He sneered in triumph. "That's what I was waiting for, Carlisle. All your money, all your skills, all your fucking commendations mean jack shit. You're just a scared little fox digging through the trash, and get a face full of arsenic for the trouble. I've been waiting for this moment for five years, you little bitch. I even had to get Dad to hold you back – I can't have you graduating without my permission."_

_Slowly he began grinding the blade closer to her face. His grin grew wider as he said, "But I need to get going, it's almost time for lunch. I think I've got what I wanted, but I need a little souvenir, don't you think?"_

_The blade came closer, shifting up as it traveled._

"_Have you ever heard of plastination? It's kinda cool actually – body parts are preserved by turning tissue into plastics."_

_Terror grew in Connie, tears silently streaming down her face._

"_And I just chose what I want to remember you by."_

_The knife was suddenly pulled away from the pipe, now as hot as the water within. Any question of what Falcone intended to do with the knife was answered when she felt the blade come against her fox ear, making her gibber in terror and thrash against her restraints. Falcone's grin grew even more, threatening to spread from ear to ear._

_He pressed the blade in harder, nearly breaking the skin._

_Her scream echoed down the hall, but even it couldn't drown out the yells and curses of incoming prefects. Falcone cursed, tensing to rip the ear off in a quick flick of his wrist but was knocked to the side by a large man in combat fatigues. The man screamed in Falcone's face and slammed him into the concrete floor again and again, even as another released Connie from her handcuffs. The brutish-looking man had no idea what to do when the fox girl leapt onto him, bawling as blood trickled from her ear._

-O-O-O-

Connie scooted back, all control of her limbs gone as she struggled to crawl away. To this, Falcone gave a snort of disdain and looked to his personal combat droids.

"Well? Grab her," he said. The 130s bleeped in confirmation and strode forward, snatching Connie off the ground before she could react and hoisted her to her feet. Their hands were like vice grips around her arms, and she struggled briefly before looking back to Falcone in terror.

She didn't notice that, in the background, a flash of blonde was shoving its way towards her.

"P-please…" she whispered, paralyzed in terror.

The Winchester heir strode toward her with a grin, karambit flicking between his fingers.

"Help…"

The crowd around her hollered in excitement. Whether any of them approved of this or not, they had already been swept up into a mob mentality, one that screamed for blood. Human and Faunus alike were throwing their fists in the air, eager to see what happened next.

Falcone reached out and roughly grabbed her hair, tilting her head to expose her ears better.

"_HELP ME!"_

"What the hell are you doing, asshole?!" someone yelled from the crowd, and the mass of blonde hurtled through the air and slammed into Falcone. He was blasted away with a grunt and a flare of yellow aura, hurtling into the crowd with enough force to knock ten others down. Yang Xiao Long held her fists in a loose stance, eyes glowing an ominous red that flicked to Connie in concern before looking back to her prey.

No one noticed the gunmetal-gray figure enter the room, sticking to the shadows.

Ruby squeezed through the crowd, following the trail of destruction that her sister had wrought. As soon as her gaze fell on her friend she gasped, and ran toward her as she exclaimed, "Connie! Oh my god, are you okay?! We heard your scream and –"

She was stopped when one of the 130s shoved its hand into her chest and knocked her back. The same fist retracted and shifted into multiple gun barrels that were aimed at the girl as it intoned, _"This subject has been detained on the order of Falcone Winchester. Any attempts to approach this subject will be met with lethal force."_

Ruby froze at the sight of the barrels. Aura was strong. Aura gave one power. But the ability took deflect bullets took time and lots and _lots_ of practice, time that she hadn't taken yet. She wished she had done so now.

Connie began to wake from her terror-fueled stupor. "R-Ruby," she said. "Ruby, run! Get out of here! He'll hurt you!"

At this, Ruby's eyes became hard and determined as she shot back, "Then I'll hurt him ten times worse! No one does this to my friends!"

"Damn straight!" Yang shouted, watching as Falcone began to get to his feet. Connie looked between them both, utterly confused to why they were helping her.

"What on _Remnant_ is all the commotion –" Weiss began, striding through the crowd, only to stop and stare in shock at the scene before her. Blake was not far behind her, though when her gaze fell on Connie her eyes narrowed and she reached for her right shoulder, only to find that her weapon was, in fact, still in her locker. The realization made Blake hiss under her breath.

The arrival of the newcomers had made the gathered crowd come to their senses and they retreated to the edges of the room, wanting to see the chaos but not wanting to die in the process.

Everything happened too quickly for Connie to process. One moment she was running to stop an armed confrontation, only to end up as… this? Falcone's chewtoy? It had happened so many times in the past that it no longer surprised her, the feeling of control that he had control over her simply made her feel numb. She was always alone when he found her, or passerby simply didn't care enough to intervene. But, the one time she wasn't alone, these four _stupid_ girls outright attack the Winchester heir over her? She couldn't believe the ludicrousness of it all.

There was a dark chuckle, and all eyes turned to Falcone. "Well, looks like you got some friends_,_" he spat maliciously.

"A slut."

Yang bristled.

"A brat."

Ruby grumbled.

"A priss."

"Hey!"

"And another slut."

Blake's eyes narrowed.

Taking another look at them all, Falcone laughed and laughed. "Oh man, you sure know how to pick'em, Carlisle," he choked out, wiping a tear from his eye. "Not only did you find schmucks to leech off, but they're all _human!_ What, is this some sort of half-assed revenge on humanity? 'Cause it ain't doing it for me."

Connie's eyes narrowed, but she just gritted her teeth.

Yang growled and took an aggressive step at the man. "ARGH! Enough!" she shouted. "Get away from her! Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Falcone gasped, hands over his heart in mock hurt. "Oh, whatever do you mean? I was only catching up with the little vixen, it's not like I'm doing anything she doesn't like!"

"You certainly have a strange concept of what she likes," Weiss said, hands on her hips.

At this, Falcone chuckled. "Oh, what? And you do?"

The four of them went silent, unable to say anything.

"And that's what I thought," Falcone mocked. "Let me guess, you've been trying to _get closer_ to her, right? Be her _friend?_ What a crock – she's an animal! She doesn't want friends; she wants a _pack_ that will protect her from the big baddies in the world! I'm just doing a public service, ridding the world of this trash_._ She's like a puppet without its strings, she's danced enough so that she wants others dance for her._"_

With every word that Falcone had spoken, Connie's head bent lower and lower, until her chin rested against her chest. She found herself exhausted, so much that to deny what her former commander was saying felt impossible. One minute, _one minute _she saw him again outside of Ironwood Academy and she just… folded. Where did the girl who cussed him out on the radio go?

"She's nothing but a dog, I'll prove it you," he said, cutting off Team RWBY's protests. "130s!"

The droids snapped to attention.

"Release her."

The 130s tossed Connie to the floor, making her collapse to her knees.

"Connie!" Ruby shouted, but before she could move one of the 130s fired a volley at her feet, making the girl squeak and fall back in shock.

Connie watched this happen with a dead look in her eyes, one that scared Ruby to her very soul.

"…Connie?" she asked.

She didn't answer.

Falcone watched on with a sneer. "Pilot Carlisle," he shouted in a commanding voice. Connie instantly leapt to her feet, shoulders square, feet together, ready to serve. And hating every moment of it.

Connie bit her lip as she stood there, too ashamed to even glance at Ruby. The girl couldn't help but give her friend a piteous look. Yang stepped forward, only to take a long spurt of bullets into her gut. Thankfully her Aura stopped them, but she still doubled over in pain amid her sister's panicked yells.

"Are you trying to kill us?!" Weiss screeched.

"Just stay back kiddies, let the adults talk," Falcone said, brandishing his little knife before turning to Connie. "Now where were we?"

Connie bit her lip, keeping herself from looking at the group.

"Get on your knees."

_Don't,_ she told herself. Something in her quailed at Falcone's stare, and despite her wanting to do something, _anything,_ she found herself on her knees before him. She felt small, so very, very small in that moment. And worse of all, _Ruby was watching._

Falcone laughed at Connie's submissiveness. "_Good girl!"_ he mocked, rubbing between her ears.

Watching from the background was Blake, waiting for an opening to attack with the one weapon she had been able to find – while it was a spoon, even it would be able to do some damage if it was infused with Aura. When she saw him praise the girl like a _dog_, something in her snapped. A low snarl tore itself from her throat as her eyes narrowed, irises growing slitted, and she made sure she was absolutely silent as she cocked her arm back and let the utensil fly. She knew it was moving fast – she had trained herself to be able to knock people out just by throwing a rock at their heads. So, Blake was completely and utterly shocked when Falcone's arm whipped up and snatched it out of the air with even looking.

He looked to Blake with a smirk. "I'm better than all you combined, _brats._ Learn your place like my little vixen here did, or I'll _make_ you learn."

All of them bristled. Connie, however, just seemed to sink further into the floor, wanting nothing more than to disappear. She was shocked when Falcone roughly grabbed her hair, making her gasp in pain as he forced her head to tilt up and meet his eyes.

Yang rushed forward once more, only to be kicked away in her already wounded stomach by Falcone's 130s. "_Further disobedience will not be tolerated,"_ the left one intoned, looking at Yang as she doubled over, gasping for breath.

"Yes, further disobedience will not be tolerated," Falcone mocked, flicking his little blade into the air. "You want her back? Try anything funny and you'll get her back in _pieces."_

He looked back to Connie, clawing at his hand to try and escape. Giving her a rough shake and smiling at her cry, Falcone finally released her and allowed her to drop to her hands and knees, only to kick her arms out from under her and drop the girl to the floor with a grunt.

"Here's your next order," he said. "Lick my boots."

Connie felt dead inside.

Her hesitation must've angered Falcone, as he snarled and shouted, "130s! Target the girl with the red hood!"

The androids gave out an ominous garble as they aimed their weapons at Ruby, who stood there in utter shock. Yang, however, pushed through her pain and screamed, "_What the hell are you doing, you bastard?!"_

Falcone ignored the enraged girl. "Obey me, or your little _friend_ gets it," he told Connie, who stared at Ruby in fear.

Pain.

Humiliation.

Rage.

Old memories were surfacing, making her want to just fold in on herself and hide. But, it didn't matter. Not now. Not when Ruby was in danger.

Steeling herself, Connie opened her mouth, leaned forward, and stuck her tongue out…

"Interjection: As entertaining as watching a bully work his magic on a defenseless girl may be, I have to cut in and say that all of you are guilty of dereliction of duty."

All eyes turned to the door, where an AK-130 had watching from the sidelines. It was a standard gunmetal grey – really, the only thing that made it stand out from the any of the other models was the ragged scar in its faceplate, where the left eye would be

Falcone looked to the 130 in disdain. "Go back to whatever hole you climbed from, robot. You don't have any business here."

The 130 shrugged – _shrugged – _and said in a robotic drone, "Answer: On the contrary, I have much business with that girl you are terrorizing, as well as her friends. Now, unless you'd like to be put on a military trial for assault and abuse of power, I suggest you get your filthy bastard hands off the girl."

The fact that an AK-130, an android model not known for its level of intelligence in the first place, was speaking like a functioning human being was lost on Falcone. He laughed, and said, "What? Do you even know who I am? 130s, terminate that one, I don't like it."

The black androids walked towards the scarred one, one staying back to level its gun barrel arms at it while the other strode forward with extended blades from its wrists.

"_Target locked, engaging," _they droned.

The scarred one almost seemed disappointed.

As the one with blades drew closer, the scarred one remained completely still. It was only when the blades were swinging at its head that it blurred into motion, blocking one strike with a forearm while extending its own blade and stabbed through with the other, instantly terminating the black AK-130. The scarred one didn't stop, turning so that the one with its guns ready would only have a shot at its dead ally. And it did, firing nonstop against its fallen ally's frame as the scarred one sprinted at it. The thing didn't even try to move as the scarred one pounced and impaled the droid on the same blade as its ally.

The scarred one drove the dead androids into the floor before it yanked its blade out of the pair of them. "Pathetic," it said, before stepping on their dead frames to continue onward towards Falcone. Strangely, though, he stopped beside Yang, ignoring the girl as she warily eyed the rogue android.

Connie, meanwhile, watched on with a blank expression.

Falcone looked on in shock, before shouting angrily, "I am Commander Falcone Winchester! You will _obey me_, you bucket of bolts!"

"Counter: You are not the commander of this facility. The commander is Anton Zurich, and I do believe you do not hail from Atlas. You should not be anywhere near this facility, in reality."

"I-I'm the Winchester heir!"

To this, the 130 gave a slight nod. "Supplication: Yes, perhaps. And perhaps that obligates me to ensure your life remains intact."

Falcone sneered.

"Continuation: But an obligation isn't the same as a directive."

It turned to Yang. "Suggestion: If I may propose, Falcone Winchester no longer has his lap dogs to protect him."

Yang blinked, realizing what the android meant – there were no bullets to stop her now! Falcone seemed to realize this as well, though he could barely take a step back or raise his knife to defend himself before Yang leapt at him with a feral scream, slugging him across the jaw. He flew magnificently, twirling two full rotations before he smashed into the far wall head-first.

"That's for threatening my sister, you son of a bitch!" she shouted, and stalked her way over to where his crumpled, groaning form lay.

Ruby, meanwhile, rushed to Connie. The girl was staring at Falcone's crumpled body, mouth opening and closing in disbelief.

"Connie! Connie, are you okay?! Say something!"

Ruby's words were unheard by Connie. That _pig_ had tormented her for nearly five years. The bane of her existence. Unbeatable. Untouchable. And these girls were willing to face danger for her and knocked him out cold with a single punch? It was too much. Still, she was compelled to answer the girl, and she said monotonously, "It's okay, Ruby. I'm fine."

Instead of reassuring the girl, Ruby just seemed even more worried.

With a dull thud, Yang managed to pull Falcone from where he'd been embedded in the wall and let him drop to the ground. She grinned as she grabbed the front of his uniform and pulled a fist back to slug him until his face was mush.

"And just what is going on?" a voice asked.

All of Team RWBY gulped and looked to Ozpin, where he'd pushed through the onlookers. He took a sip from his mug, looking almost normal, but the stern glare he gave the girl made them quake in their shoes and wish that they had their weapons, if nothing else than to comfort themselves with.

As for Connie? She sat there, staring at the unconscious form of the man she once called her commander, unable to feel a thing. And through all the commotion, no one noticed a scarred AK-130 exit the room, joining another of its brethren before disappearing among their patrols.

-O-O-O-

"…_no excuse for… put your sister… the Winchesters…"_

Ozpin's muffled voiced trickled out his office door, keeping Ruby and Connie from knowing exactly what was being said but able to get the gist of it. They were waiting in the hall, Ruby squirming on the uncomfortable chairs while Connie sat with her head bent and hands on her knees. Neither had spoken a word to the other in the whole two hours since the confrontation with Falcone, nor during when Grendel was brought to the surface of the Beacon plateau by a cargo elevator, or even when they were brought to the small garage where Connie's machine would be kept.

Though Ruby had longed to geek out, seeing her friend the way she was gave her pause.

All of them could see that Connie was struggling with some inner turmoil, making all of them, Ruby especially, frustrated when the girl would pushed them away after they expressed their concern. It was maddening. Even Ozpin shot the Connie a concerned glance, but she simply stared at the wall, deep in thought.

Either way, once Falcone came to, it was surprisingly easy for Ozpin for bend him into giving back Connie's tank. Threats of sending video feeds of his behavior to his parents worked wonders to that end. As for Felix, he was brought straight to Beacon's infirmary to treat him for a cracked collarbone, bruises, and a concussion.

"Ruby."

Connie's sudden voice made Ruby squeak in surprise, nearly falling out of her chair. Taking a flustered breath, Ruby looked to see Connie staring at the wall. "Y-yes?" she asked.

Connie frowned, opening her mouth before closing it again. She took a steadying breath before saying, "Earlier… in the workshop, you asked me why I didn't want you to come."

Ruby sat forward, attentive.

"…I," Connie began with difficulty. "Ruby, I _need _to know I can trust you," she pleaded, still staring at the wall.

"Connie, of course you can," Ruby said, just as pleadingly.

"_How?"_

To this, Ruby could say nothing, feeling nothing but the cold settling in her stomach. Mind racing, she said the only thing she could.

"I can't show you Connie. You just have to trust me," Ruby said quietly.

It was illogical. It was risky. It was foolhardy. And yet, as Connie felt the last of her defenses crumble, the thought of Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang jumping to her aid spurned her on as she said, "For… most of my life, I've been taking orders. It's easy. You don't have to think for yourself. If anything goes wrong, the person that made the mistake was your superior. I've been living like that since I was twelve. It was fine for me."

If Ruby reacted, she didn't show it. Taking this as a sign to continue, Connie was shaking from her frazzled nerves and whispered, "I was…" She paused, and shook her head. "I _wasn't_ happy actually, but I accepted it. If I was able to pilot, then I could take it. And after that wasn't enough anymore, I had Grendel to keep myself together. And when she wasn't enough, I ran away."

Finally, she looked to Ruby with pain in her eyes. "What you saw in the mess hall is how my life was. I _never_ wanted you to see that, _and I don't know why_."

At this, Ruby reached out and rubbed Connie's shoulder – though the fox girl flinched and tried to shy away, Ruby held on and said, "Connie, if you think I would judge you for something that you couldn't change, don't! You're my _friend,_ and friends don't do that."

"I've been judged my entire life, I'm used to it," Connie spat vindictively. "But you… I haven't talked much to anyone in the last five years, did you know that? How is it _you're_ the one that makes me let my guard down?"

Ruby didn't know what to say to this.

"I _hate_ him," she continued, gritting her teeth as tears began to come to her eyes. "_I hate him! _You call me a friend, but the people I've known are scum! You say to be there, but I've spent my life _not_ being there so no one has a chance to hurt me anymore! Why is it _you?!_"

She lashed out, grabbing Ruby by the shoulders and forcing her into her seat. Connie ignored the sudden clattering in Ozpin's office as she continued, "Ruby, I want you to answer this one question. Tell me the truth, or I'll know."

In Connie's eyes, behind her control, Ruby could see her desperation. She was vulnerable. The look in her eyes reminded Ruby of herself after her mother passed.

"Why did you try to protect me from Winchester?"

Swallowing down the ball of grief, Ruby stared back and said, "I wanted to help you."

That simple answer caught Connie off guard. She stared at Ruby, searching for any trace of deception, but there was none. There was only a girl with an honest heart, one that, impossibly, was willing to accept her.

It was too much.

Connie felt herself shattering. The walls she'd built up around herself – the same walls that had shielded her through Ironwood – crumbled in an instant, and she clung to Ruby's shoulders as she bowed her head, shuddering as she clamped her eyes shut. Ruby almost began hyperventilating, worried to see the tough, determined girl like this. It scared her more than she'd like to admit.

"Connie, what's wrong? Please, tell me!" she pleaded, only for Connie to grip her shoulders almost painfully tight.

Ruby realized she wouldn't get anywhere with Connie in a state like this, so she tried to remember what Yang did for her when her mother passed. She brought an unsure hand to Connie's head and guided the girl to her shoulder, hugging her, careful to keep her hands away from the fox girl's ears as she murmured soft reassurances. To her delight Connie didn't resist or push her away, merely hiding her face.

Meanwhile, in the office, Yang stared in disbelief at the security feed playing on Ozpin's monitor. She'd never seen the girl _smile,_ let alone break down like she was doing now. Blake had to restrain her after Connie had lunged at her sister, but now she just seemed… lost, in Yang's eyes. It was a familiar scene, of Yang comforting her sister and chasing away the nightmares after their mother died. But to see her baby sis where she herself had been made Yang smile.

Weiss looked on in confusion. "Wait… what?"

"I think," Ozpin began, watching the feed from the other side of his desk, "that our Connie may have finally found herself a friend."

Blake was happy that the fox girl had found a place for herself, her smirk almost unnoticeable, but a thought crossed her mind and she paused. "Professor Ozpin, why do you have a prerecorded scolding on your computer?" she asked, her voice stern.

"…It never hurts to be prepared," Ozpin said, smiling ever so slightly.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Three Stooges

_Sorry about the late update, guys. Shit has been going down here on my end - nothing too major, but picture a moving truck and twenty years of accumulated crap._

_Not fun._

_Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Connie is... she's a very difficult character to write for. As I'm going along with her, I've found that she's very unpredictable. It will get more apparent as she grows._

_Also, I have somewhat bad news. We're getting down to the end of my ready chapters. I have three more up to the end of this next story arc I have planned, but depending on how fast I can bang out the next one, there may be some delay between 16 and 17. Again, there's three more, I just want to warn you guys beforehand because I tend to write very, **very** slowly. Depending on whether or not I'm excited about what's going on in the story. This is in addition to the fact that I'm writing my own story, the shit going down, home, daily stuff._

_Anyway, I just wanted to inform you guys. Cheers._

_RYNO_

* * *

Aside from the faint clunking sound of the massive clockwork gears that trickled out from Ozpin's office, a comfortable silence had come over the pair that waited in the hall. Connie had exhausted herself had fallen asleep sprawled across three different chairs, with her head resting next to Ruby's leg. As for Ruby, she fought desperately to keep the blush from spreading across her face.

_Okay, this is weird,_ she thought to herself. _Well, not the bad kind of weird, so I guess the good kind of weird. But does thinking that make it a bad kind of weird? It's not like I've had this happen before, but it does feel kinda nice and her ears are so soft and is it hot in here?_

She looked down at her new friend and had to fight from squealing in delight after seeing that, even while she was asleep, Connie's fox ears would twitch every so often, reacting to any source of sound. It was one of the cutest things she'd ever seen. Still, Ruby kept on rubbing Connie's ears, lulling the girl to sleep after her hysterics. She looked like she needed it – Connie had been clinging to her cloak for dear life.

They had been sitting there in silence, and Ruby fell into a peaceful lull herself. She barely registered when the office door open and squeaked when she was patted on the shoulder, looking up to see her sister giving a wide, ear-to-ear grin.

"So! Whatcha doin'?" Yang asked, her fists on her hips.

Ruby shushed her and hissed, "She fell asleep not long ago! Be quiet!"

Her smirk turning into a gentle smile, Yang leaned down with her hands on her knees, watching the two of them. "You know, you remind me a lot of how Summer used to sing us to sleep."

Ruby froze, lost in a distant memory before she looked to her sister. "I do?" she asked in a small voice.

"Totally," Yang said quietly. "Look, I'm sorry I was harsh with her at first. I… well, I'm gonna help you keep an eye on her. She seems like she needs it."

With a smile, Ruby nodded and said, "Thanks, Yang."

"As heartwarming as you two are making sleeping during school hours out to be," Weiss said, stepping out from the doorway, "I hope that you realize just how close all of us came to jeopardizing our careers as Huntresses over her."

"But it's Sunday, school isn't until tomorrow…" Ruby muttered.

Hardly a beat passed before Blake, who had somehow managed to sit herself beside Ruby without any of them noticing, said in a quiet, sarcastic monotone, "Oh Weiss, you're such a bleeding heart."

Weiss huffed and put her hands on her hips, hardly bothered by the sudden appearance of her teammate. "Well, it's not like you weren't thinking the same thing, Blake Belladonna."

"I thought it, but I didn't voice it."

The heiress rolled her eyes. "And pray tell, what's the difference?"

"That I kept my trap closed."

"You insolent –!"

"Will both of you hush?!" Ruby whispered harshly. "She's asleep!"

"Not anymore I'm not…"

Ruby jerked her hands back as Connie groaned, ears laid back as light struck her sore eyes. She gingerly lifted herself from Ruby's lap, too dazed to realize where she had been as she sat with her head bowed and her elbows on her knees. Yang, frowning in concern, reached out and rubbed the girl's shoulder as she asked, "Hey Connie, are you okay- _whoa!_"

Yang leapt back in surprise when Connie looked up at her, revealing red, puffy eyes and swollen cheeks that were painful just to look at.

"I think that answers that question," Blake muttered to herself.

Shaking her head, Ruby rubbed her new friend's shoulder as she gently asked, "Hey Connie, you've been asleep for a while now. Do you feel any better?"

Connie didn't say anything. Instead, she dropped her gaze to her hands, idly clenching them, as if to check that they were real. She looked back up to Ruby. "So… that wasn't a dream…?"

Ruby smiled and shook her head. "Nope."

"It wasn't a dream," she repeated. It was… strange. Despite feeling like she should get the license plate of the truck that hit her, she felt light, almost like an oversized sack of bricks had been lifted from her shoulders. Without a word she threw an arm around Ruby's shoulders, head bowed, holding her in a fierce, sidelong hug as she struggled to articulate what she felt, but in the end she could only hug Ruby tighter.

Ruby quickly began turning blue, the arm around her neck too tight as she flailed her arms in dismay.

Connie just as quickly released her, awkward and face flushed in discomfort.

Ruby looked to Yang for help, only for her traitorous sibling to grin and give her a dismissive shrug.

"What she means to say," Ozpin said, striding through his office doors with his cane in hand, "is thank you."

With a nervous gulp, Ruby looked up at the headmaster. He was the same as always, yet something about him made her uneasy. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't have a cup of coffee in hand, or maybe it was the knowing smirk on his face. Possibly it was that Professor Goodwitch was nowhere to be found, in the middle of her Dust and Aura Manipulation class. Or maybe it was the fact that each of her teammates, who should by all rights have nothing to smile about after being lectured by the Headmaster for well over an hour, look at her with smiles and – in Weiss's case – hesitant, forced turns of lips, not even worthy of being called grins.

Ruby's mind clicked. "Wait, aren't we in trouble?" she asked.

Ozpin shook his head. "While I am disappointed that the four of you landed yourselves in hot water," he said, making the four of them cringe, "I am not angry about the reason. Putting yourselves in harm's way for the sake of another is the very definition of being a Huntress, and you should be proud of yourselves."

"Then what was the whole lecture thing?"

Blake, who had been watching in silence, rolled her eyes and snarked, "Apparently, the good Headmaster likes to record himself when he lectures students."

"Yeah, we were watching on the security feed," Yang said. "We didn't want to interrupt what was happening out here."

Connie slowly looked up, realization dawning on her as her embarrassment vanished. Fists clenched, she shakily got to her feet and leveled a murderous glare at Ozpin. "So, this whole thing was _staged?"_ she hissed, making all but Ozpin pale and lean away from her.

With an unashamed nod, Ozpin said, "Yes. In all honesty, you grew closer to Team RWBY faster than I predicted."

"You predicted?" Connie muttered to herself. Suddenly it all made sense – being stuck in the room next to Team RWBY, the cafeteria, the firing range, _now. _"Then the last two weeks were all part of _your plan?_ You were _using _me?"

"Yes. Though, most of the interactions between all of you were by yourselves. I just set you in close proximity."

"Quite frankly, _sir,_" she hissed, ears laid back, "I'm _through_ with being used."

Ruby, Weiss, Yang, and Blake were shocked, though it couldn't even compare to Connie's outrage. They couldn't stop her in time from going for her gun-

"I have steered you towards Team RWBY these last two weeks," Ozpin interrupted. "Of all the first year students, and most teams in fact, they seemed most appropriate for you to grow closer to. But before you shoot me," Ozpin gestured toward the fox girl's gun, "answer me this: were the emotions fake? Does knowing this make your newfound feelings any different? What happened out here is still valid, Miss Constance, despite the circumstances in which it came about."

"You mean despite your meddling," Connie retorted. Still, with her M54 halfway drawn she paused. If she thought about it, her feelings towards Team RWBY hadn't changed. She felt violated, but Connie could admit to herself that her fury wasn't directed at the four girls… nor could she forget the times she'd spent with Ruby, and by extension, the rest of her teammates. Taking a deep breath, Connie looked Ozpin in the eye. "Your coffee machine is five feet to the left of your desk, correct? By the western window?"

Somewhat surprised that she hadn't attacked him in anger, Ozpin nodded slowly. "…Yes, although I fail to see the relevance of –"

Before he could say anything further, Connie drew her gun and fired, using only a split-second to aim. Ozpin's eyes widened as he felt the air from the bullet brush past his ear, even as the projectile ricocheted off the door, tumbled, and hit the coffee machine square in the pot, shattering the fragile glass and sending the fresh brew spilling across the floor.

Ozpin and all of Team RWBY, the shot still ringing in their ears, slowly took a peek inside the office and the awaiting mess.

"…Those were aged and roasted Vacuan coffee beans…" Ozpin lamented. He almost preferred she attack him.

"_Connie!"_ Ruby cried, hands to her mouth and shaking with glee. "_That was so cool!"_

Yang gave her thumbs up and a "Nice!" while Blake nodded and gave the girl a knowing smirk. Even Weiss was suitably impressed, though in a more suspicious, calculating way, as if she knew Connie was waiting for her chance to kill all of them. Connie meekly shook her head and holstered her M54.

"It wasn't that impressive," she said with a shrug.

"Wasn't that impressive? You bullseyed a coffee pot in the next room! _Around the corner!"_ Ruby exclaimed.

Though the compliments made her feel odd, it was in a good way. Weiss, meanwhile, had rolled her eyes and turned to a glum Ozpin. "Will that be all, Professor?" she asked.

"That will be all," he droned, already lamenting the loss of his precious brew, though knew he somewhat deserved it. He barely noticed the departure of the girls, all of them heading for the elevator, though he was brought out of his musings on how to get his next batch of the rare beans when he felt a tug at his elbow.

He looked down to see Connie beside him, looking towards the ground and shifting uncomfortably now that her anger had dissipated. "I-I… um…" she stammered, struggling to get the words out.

"Thank you?" Ozpin offered.

Connie nodded gratefully.

"You are most welcome, Constance."

"I still don't trust you," she said sternly. Connie gave him the slightest squeeze of his elbow before she ran back to the waiting elevator, where her newfound friends were waiting. Giving a long sigh, Ozpin meandered back into his office, ignoring the widening brown puddle as he strode to the massive window behind his desk. "This is certainly turning out to be an interesting year," he said to himself, looking out over Vale. His home. And, hopefully, one he would be able to protect this time.

-O-O-O-

The elevator ride down to the lobby was short, though Connie wouldn't have noticed with the way her new… _acquaintances_ laughed and joked with one another. Yang would tease Ruby, who would turn as red as her namesake, and turn to her partner for support who would only tease her some more in her own special brand of deviousness that would leave the girl confused, at least until Blake would explain it to her. Ruby would exclaim in mock outrage before falling into hysterics, followed by the rest of her team – even Weiss would laugh, though it was stifled chuckles that barely managed to sneak through her mask.

And then the process would start all over again. If nothing else, it was entertaining to watch.

"So," Yang said as soon as they stepped off the elevator, "what should we do today?"

Walking down a mostly deserted hall, the blonde brawler was walking backwards with her arms behind her head as she faced the rest of her team. They had settled into a line as they walked, with Ruby, Weiss and Blake walking abreast of each other. Connie was walking at Ruby's shoulder, watching with a slight smile.

Ruby's hand immediately shot up. "Oh! Oh! What about –"

"We are _not_ going to be spending our Sunday afternoon loitering around a Dust shop," Weiss shot, cutting into Ruby's tirade before it could even begin. "If nothing else, we should study."

Ruby groaned, stomping her feet like a child as she walked. "_Ugh,_ we studied _yesterday…_ and the day before that!"

Weiss gave a cocky smirk, turning her nose to the air as she said, "Well, how else do you expect to achieve the same level of academic excellence that I have?"

Utter confusion was all that could describe Ruby's face. "Like a plague?"

"That's pestilence," Blake offered.

"Wait, so… cocky?"

Yang grinned. "That's arrogance. And Weiss."

"Hey!"

Nose deep in a book, Blake muttered under her breath, "Ruby wouldn't use that word if she knew where it actually came from. It would fry her brain."

Connie couldn't help but snort, struggling to contain her laughter. With a grin, Yang looked to her and said, "You should laugh more, it suits you. Well, when you're not doing the whole 'I'm a badass' thing and all."

She didn't know what to say to that.

Surprisingly, it was Blake that cut in with a quiet, level voice and asked, "What about that new café downtown?"

Ruby laughed. "You just want to go there for the books!"

"I feel no shame," Blake retorted.

"What do you think, Connie?" Ruby asked, stopping to face her. Connie looked like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Pressured and not knowing what else to do, Connie frantically nodded, much to the pleasure of Blake, Ruby and Weiss.

Yang? Not so much, as she was moaning about being stuck around dusty books all the way to the docks. Seeing as it was Sunday many other students were there as well, wanting to spend their last hours of freedom as far away from Beacon as possible. Connie, while feeling a little more comfortable around Ruby, eyed the crowds surrounding her with distaste and hands constantly flexing, itching to take her gun in hand.

_They're too close. They're going to attack. They're going to hurt me. Too close too close tooclosetooclose__**TOOCLOSE-**_

Connie flinched when Ruby took her hand, though it still managed to keep her calm and ease her racing heart. She took a glance around her as she slowed her breathing and scolded herself as she realized that no one was even looking them. They wanted nothing more than to go into town just like them. Still, she shuffled awkwardly at Ruby's hand over her own as they boarded the four-winged airship and found some seats at the stern of the vessel, away from everyone else. As the soothing thrum of the airship intensified, slowly pulling the ship away from the docks, Yang leaned toward the two as she frowned in concern

"Hey, you okay?" she asked.

It felt strange to have someone worried over her. Strange, unfamiliar, and awkward. "Yeah," she said with a blank nod, "I am." However, she couldn't help the warm feeling in her chest. It didn't stop her from slowly pulling her hand out of Ruby's own, lost in thought and missing the slightly hurt look on Ruby's face. The rest of the ride to Vale was spent in silence, though it was unlike the time in the cafeteria or the last two days when she had observed Team RWBY. It was comfortable, putting Connie at ease and reassuring her that she wasn't making a huge mistake.

She spent the half hour flight staring out the window, amazed – and not for the first time – at how different this kingdom was from Atlas. She had grown up there, and so it was and would always be her home. Despite how unforgiving it was, the cold and the snow and the ice had a certain serene beauty to them. Several times she'd brave running into the night watch to sneak out of her room and go to the roof, simply to stare at the tundra surrounding the city. But Vale had its beauty too. Lush green forests, wide lakes, oceans, even the plateau Beacon had been built on. While Atlas seemed to never change, frozen in time, Vale pulsed and breathed with life. She found she liked it, despite how different it was.

The thrum of the airship's engines lowered as they neared the end of the flight. Not a word was exchanged as Team RWBY got from their seats, quickly followed by Connie, and towards the front of the passenger compartment students had already begun to crowd in front of the bulkhead. Through the window Connie could see the airfield tower, made of steel supports and three enclosed floors. Spread across the tower's three-hundred foot tall length were elevators snaking through the structure like veins. It not only gave the massive airships room to dock but also for smaller air yachts and freighters, along with the four-winged Bullsharks at the lowest level, a new VTOL design based on the aging Bullhead, resting on landing pads that spread out from the tower like lily pads and interconnected with supports and walkways. The thrum lowered even more, and with surprising gentleness for its size, the airship settled against the tower's docking clamps with barely a tremor.

"'Kay, so the café. Is there anywhere else we wanna go?" Yang asked as they waited for the students to clear out, something that Connie was extremely thankful for.

Weiss smirked and shifted her weight onto one foot. "One wouldn't think that you could think that far ahead, Yang."

"Oi. Just 'cause I like to fool around doesn't mean I ain't smart," Yang growled, leveling a glare at Weiss.

"So can you explain last week's quiz? And that grammar, for that matter?"

"I only got a forty-three because I got off by a question halfway through! I hate multiple choice!" Yang yelled indignantly, shaking her fist at the heavens. "Damn you, whoever made up multiple choice exams! _Damn you!"_

"Bravo. You should've been an actor," Blake said flatly, slowly clapping.

As the last of the students cleared out, Connie looked nervously around the empty compartment and whispered to Ruby, "…I know I've been around them for over a week, but are they normally like this?"

Ruby sniggered. "Yep, pretty much."

"Dust spare us."

Ruby burst out in high-pitched, snorting laughter, nodding as she said, "Yeah, you should've seen Yang when I was growing up!"

"And ya still are!" Yang shouted jovially, throwing her arm around her sister's shoulder. "You've got your _entire life _to enjoy me, little sis!"

"…Why does that sound like a punishment?" Connie muttered to herself.

Ruby groaned in agreement. "Please kill me…" she whined.

Weiss rolled her eyes and stepped forward as she said, "None of this is helping us in deciding where we're going to go besides the café. Fortunately, I have an emergency itinerary prepared for an occasion such as this." She pulled her scroll out of her jacket pocket, waving it slightly.

"So… not only are you a snob most of the time anyway, but you prepare in advance for it, too?" Yang asked incredulously.

"Oh, shut up you," Weiss shot, opening her scroll. "Now, I have a rough schedule that we can adjust as we need. Does anyone need school supplies?"

Yang groaned. "Someone kill_ me."_

-O-O-O-

As it turned out, Connie was sorely lacking in school supplies. While this usually meant she would simply go out and grab a notebook and a few pencils, the heiress had much different plans in mind. Not only did Connie get a notebook and pencils, she ended up with two binders, a sharpener, a planner, several _more_ packs of pencils, a stack of scratch paper, and a light brown book bag that she quite honestly couldn't see the bottom of. As the café came into view, Connie let out a long-suffering moan, grunting under the weight of the bag from hell.

"You'll thank me once classes get underway," Weiss said, strutting her way down the street.

"You'll thank me for not shoving a pencil up your behind…" Connie muttered, and not for the first time she thought the white-haired girl had shoved so much stuff into her new bag on purpose.

Ruby sniggered. "Well, if you did, it would just join the others."

Despite every effort not to, Connie couldn't help but snort and choke down a laugh.

There was only light traffic in the streets of Vale, with most of the people wanting nothing more than to spend a relaxing day outside. There were mostly humans around, and the few Faunus they did see were doing all they could to avoid humans, preferring to go down alleyways or duck out of the way of a passing human entirely. Connie received dirty glares from humans several times, whispering to themselves as they eyed her laden bag with suspicion.

_They think I have a bomb,_ she thought to herself in amusement. _They should worry about themselves before they worry about me._

Weiss, Ruby and Connie had gone on by themselves to the office supplies store, seeing as Yang had suddenly developed a sudden too-much-paper-gives-me-rash disease and Blake had just wanted to get to her books. They left before Weiss could discuss Yang's discrepancy of wanting to leave for a book store. While Connie hadn't minded the hour-long detour she just wanted to collapse into a chair and eat. The café was now just a straight shot in front of them, just a half-block away. She could already smell the heady aroma of coffee.

Distracted as she was by the smells around her, Connie wasn't paying attention when a bulky-looking man barreled into her, nearly sending her to the sidewalk before Ruby could catch her by the arm. "Watch it, fox!" he growled, and ducked inside a nearby convenience store before any of them could say anything.

"Watch where you're going, you- you jerk!" Ruby shouted, shaking a tiny fist in her anger.

"It's miscreants like him that ruin the image of Vale," Weiss said in a huff, glaring at the door with disdain. "Let's go."

Giving the door one last glare, Ruby helped Connie back to her feet and asked, "You okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Connie let out a breath, and adjusted the bag strap before she gave Ruby a slight smirk. "I'm fine, Ruby. …Thank you for asking."

Ruby still didn't look convinced.

A sudden, rare ball of confidence bloomed in her, and Connie couldn't help but smirk as she said, "It'll take more than that to injure an Armor pilot."

In all honesty, she was used to it. While she didn't like it, being shoved was an occurrence she was familiar with. After trying to hide herself and utterly failing in her first year at Ironwood, she simply felt indifferent to the man's actions. Unlike most Faunus, whose traits could be hidden quite easily under clothing, Connie had never had the luxury of being able to hide. Cat ears could be hidden under a hat, the same with dog ears. Claws could be sheathed and tails could be wrapped around the waist. Antlers were another case, being protrusions of bone. Those simply _couldn't_ be hidden, not without sawing them off. That, sadly, was something that deer Faunus were forced through back in Atlas, regardless if they were pilots or soldiers. It was too much effort to make three separate helmets. The council barely passed one for humans and one for eared Faunus in the first place.

More exotic traits were a different story. While it was exceedingly uncomfortable, wings could be folded beneath a heavy jacket. Eyes could be hidden by contacts, even if it became uncomfortable after hours on end. Other traits, like Connie's fox ears, were horrible to try to hide. They were easily twice as long as a cat's, making anything from hats to hoodies to bows impossible to fit them in. She'd nearly lost the tip of her right ear from lack of blood circulation one time.

So, a shove was something she was used to. Hell, it was at the low end of the spectrum of what she'd endured before. Giving Ruby another nod to say she was alright, she followed the two partners the rest of the way to the café without incident, greeted by the gentle tinkling of the doorbell. Three others were there aside from the last two members of Team RWBY, two of them on a date at the farthest table from where Yang and Blake sat at, while the third was a tall man in a trenchcoat who was reading where he stood in an aisle.

As for the place itself? It was a quaint little shop, with the café area in the front and five lines of bookshelves at the back, where a door to the kitchens was tucked in a corner. The smell of wood, paper and coffee mixed well together, as did the lighting, which was bright enough to let people see yet soft enough to be gentle on the eyes. For Blake, the conjoined café and bookshop was paradise, and was smiling as she dug into a novel with a cup of coffee close at hand. Yang had been pouting up until she saw the three walk through the door and instantly brightened into a wide grin, waving her hand as she stood.

"Hey guys! Over here, we saved you seats!" she yelled, completely unnecessary in such a quiet place.

Weiss rolled her eyes as she strode over. "You make as much noise as a Goliath, Yang," she snarked.

"Aw, you're just jealous 'cause I'm _bigger_ than you!"

Staring askew at the smiling blonde, Weiss seemed uncomfortable as she silently stammered, making choked noises before she finally sighed. "There… are so many things wrong with that statement that I'm not even going to deign you with a response. How did you even segway from a Goliath to the size of… _you?_"

Yang pouted once more. "You're no fun."

"You can have fun without being vulgar."

"But that's no fun at all!"

"_Anyway,"_ Ruby cut in, "I thought we were gonna be together as a team today! We can't do that if we're arguing!"

Almost grudgingly, Weiss and Yang looked to their leader, willing to drop their argument. For the time being. Blake simply looked over the top of her book with a questioning stare.

Ruby grinned. "Besides, we still need to show Connie around!"

Connie, who had been watching with a mix of fascination and morbid curiosity, snapped to attention at hearing her name. "I-I don't want to impose –"

"It's a little late for that," Weiss muttered, just quiet enough that no one would be able to hear her. Except for Connie, though she was sure that the heiress had no intention of letting her thoughts be known in the first place. Mentally shrugging, she stiffened, and with practiced ease buried any indignation she felt at the back of her mind.

More than that however, a sour expression came upon Blake before it was quashed in an instant, so fast that Connie barely had time to see it let alone anyone else.

She filed it away in the back of her mind.

Unaware of the exchange, Yang laughed and said jokingly, "Hey, we're the ones who dragged you out here! If we didn't you to impose we wouldn't have let you come along!"

"And once again, you prove that you're little better than a bull in a china shop," Weiss jibed, giving the blonde a triumphant grin.

"_Guys…"_ Ruby whined.

Sensing an argument, Connie placatingly held up her hands. "I apologize if I've intruded on your time. Really, thank you for this, but if I need to go I'll –"

Once again it was Yang who reached out, gently grabbing her by the shoulder. "You're fine, Connie. Weiss just hasn't thawed out her panties yet."

"What – I've never – how _dare_ you!" Weiss shrieked, drawing yet another grin from Yang.

"Comedy gold," Yang sang.

Ruby groaned, holding her head in her hands. "This is just something you're going to need to get used to, Connie…" she mumbled.

If the last few days had told her nothing else, it was that Team RWBY cared about its own. With a smile, Connie watched the growing argument as she said, "Thank you."

-O-O-O-

"C'mon sweetheart, hurry it up. I don't know about you, but I don't got all day."

Not even a hundred feet from where the group were enjoying themselves, back in the convenience store a robbery was taking place. The problems began about six months before, when the owner was forced to switch their security system to a different one. Said security system as little more than money flushed down the toilet at the moment, with four armed men holding the cashier – a girl barely out of her teens – at gunpoint. Two of the thugs were rooting through the snack shelves, pointing their own pistols at an aging grandmother and the same rude man who had barreled into Connie. A third was loitering at the door as a lookout while the fourth looked like he just stepped out of an office, with a suit jacket, pants, and tie hanging loosely off his neck.

He sat on the counter, gun lazily pointed in the terrified woman's general direction as he aimlessly talked. "I mean, it's not like we don't have _all_ the time in the world, but come on. We're in a bit of a rush, so if you would kindly open up the register for us, I would appreciate it."

The woman immediately shoved her hand into her pockets, rooting for her keys.

Pleased at her haste, the man propped a leg up on the counter and rested his arm on her shoulder, the same on holding the gun and making the poor girl flinch. "Do you know what the world is like?" he asked. "It's like a boiling pot with a soggy stew inside. Nothing in it stands out. It's all the same – one big pulpy, sloshy puddle of goop."

The woman trembled, fumbling as she searched desperately for the keys to _get the crazy man out of the damned shop!_

"Yet there _is_ something that's special," the man continued, perfectly at ease in his monologue. "Y'see? That one ingredient that makes it a stew."

He leaned in close. "And do you know what that is?"

Dreading it, but unable to do anything else, the woman paused in her frantic search and looked the gunman in the eye. "Th-the meat?"

The man seemed disappointed. "That's what everyone says," he griped. "The _meat._ But that same meat could be used for anything – curry, goulash, hell, even salad! It's the same ingredients. It's the _stew_ _mix_ that makes it a stew."

Giddy and desperate, the woman pointed a shakey finger down an aisle to the left. "Stew mix is on aisle five! We have three kinds –"

"_I'm not lookin' for stew mix!"_ the gunman roared, and amid the woman's terrified squeals fired a shot off next to her ear.

-O-O-O-

It was faint. Too faint, really. She couldn't be sure. But years of hearing them had taught Connie what to look for. And right now, she'd heard a gunshot.

"Um, Connie? Are you alright?"

Looking to Ruby, Connie found that she had instantly shot to her feet, body tense and ears quickly swiveling, searching for any noise. She'd nearly knocked over the table which would've been unfortunate as it was laden with their lunches. Shaking her head, Connie turned away as if in a trance and began striding for the door. "Something's… not right…" she muttered.

Ruby looked between her teammates, and they all gave each other a nod before they followed the fox girl. Leaving a generous tip for the waitress, they were close at Connie's heels as they exited out to the sidewalk.

"What's going on?" Ruby asked, her tone serious.

Connie continued staring straight ahead, settling on a pace that was between a quick walk and a jog. "I'm not sure, it could be nothing, but… I thought I heard a gunshot."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Even if you did hear a gunshot, don't you think someone would have contacted the police by now?"

"Don't underestimate human negligence. People always assume someone else will do something," Connie said, ignoring the heiress's indignant glare. "Even if they did call the police it'll take them time to get here, and when they do everyone in the entire block will know about it. We're here _now_, and _they_ don't know that _we_ are."

"Who's 'they?'" Yang asked.

They all stopped when Connie held out her arm and slinked against the wall of the building. They were back to where Connie had gotten shoved outside the convenience store, though this time there was a thug in a beanie guarding the place.

"That's not conspicuous at all," Weiss said drily.

Ruby leaned forward. "Do you know what's going on?"

Leaning forward as well, Blake listened before she gave out a heavy sigh. "Great, some wannabe preacher with a gun." Connie shared a knowing look with her.

"How do you know?" Ruby asked.

Blake smirked. "I have excellent hearing."

"Robbery, then. Hostages?"

Blake nodded. "Two. And two – no – three men inside, not including this one."

Yang looked to Ruby. "What's the plan?"

Shaken, Ruby panicked slightly as she said, "Wh-what? Me? I-I'm not –"

"You're our team leader, and situations like this are bound to come up again in the future. Weren't you the one who took on Torchwick?" Weiss asked.

Ruby was still torn. Grimm? Yeah, sure, she could take on Grimm. She could _lead a team_ as she took on Grimm. But an actual hostage situation? Before Ruby could spiral further into the pits of panic, Yang grabbed her sister the shoulder and said, "These guys are the monsters now. They're not going to hesitate to hurt people."

Ruby blinked, and hardened her gaze. "Yeah… yeah you're right."

She looked to Blake and Weiss. "Right, the three of us are going to go around the back and sneak in that way. We need to cut them off in case they try to escape. Yang, you go in the front and do your thing."

With a grin, Yang mashed her fists together. "Hell yeah!"

"With your fists? You seem to be forgetting that we don't have any weapons," Weiss said.

At this, Connie patted a hand against her skirt, where her M54 was holstered. "Not quite. I'll go with Yang."

Ruby nodded. "Okay, support her. If they have a gun, try to get rid of it. We good?"

All of them nodded.

"Be careful. Go."

The red, black and white of their team ducked down the alleyway that ran beside the store, making sure to hide themselves behind dumpsters and discarded pallet stacks to keep from getting spotted by the sentry. Yang grinned as she pulled a pair of aviator shades from her jacket and slipped them on.

She said, "Whelp, I guess we're going in. You ready?"

Connie nodded, checking the safety on her gun before pulling back on the slide. There was a long pause before Yang did anything, and Connie looked up to see the blonde giving her a contemplative look.

"What's wrong?" Connie asked, holstering her weapon.

Yang shrugged. "I dunno. You need something signature to make you stand out. I mean, Ruby's got her cloak, Blake's got a bow, and Weiss has her snobby little tiara. And I've got my kickass shades. What about a hat?"

"…Is this the sort of thing we should be discussing right now?" Connie growled, glaring at her.

"Oi, sheesh! It was just a suggestion!"

With that, the two girls finally made their way around the corner, not making any effort to hide. They were immediately spotted by the guard, who not so subtly moved in front of the door as they approached.

"Hey, take a hike, we're closed," he said.

Yang simply grinned and crossed her arms under her breasts, making sure to push out her chest as she said, "Well, I was wondering if you could help me? We're kind of lost."

The man grew a little more nervous as they got closer, his hands drifting to the inside of his coat. "I said take a hike!"

"It'll just take a sec!" Yang said. The man tensed when they stopped a few feet away from him, the blonde and the fox girl standing rigidly next to her. Deciding that they were harmless enough the guard walked closer, noticing that the blonde did wondrous things to her school uniform. The fox wasn't so bad either. Not enough of a rack for his tastes.

The man blinked. Uniforms?

Needless to say, the last thing the guard saw was a tightly-clenched fist heading straight for his jaw.

-O-O-O-

"Forget about the police showing up, I disconnected the silent alarm," the gunman said. "See, I know more about your security system than you do. You know why?"

At the back of the store, one of the goons holding the grannie and the big guy at bay grew irritated and yelled, "Just get the money!"

Unheeding of his accomplice's annoyance, the gunman tapped a sticker on the side of the cash register. "See this logo? Security company. I used to work for those guys not too long ago," he said with disdain.

The cashier nodded, counting out all the Lien they had on hand.

The gunman gave a dark chuckle. "They laid me off when they restructured so now I'm a thief! Ain't that ironic?"

"U-uh huh," the woman agreed, if for no other reason than to keep a bullet from entering her skull.

"Well then laugh," the gunman growled, and pressed his pistol against the woman's forehead. Despite her terror, she let out a nervous chuckle.

He grinned. "Laugh a little more. Let's have a _big_ laugh!"

The gunman began roaring with laughter, and, either from the impossibility of what was happening to her or the fact she was going crazy – the poor woman probably suspected both – she began laughing alongside him, right up until the gunman snapped his gun back at her and snarled, "_It's nothing to laugh about!"_

He was irritated as he pulled a slim card from inside his jacket and held it out to the crying woman. "Now, you're going to put some Lien on this card. _Max it out,_ understand?"

Before he could say anything else the door opened. Now, the gunman understood these kinds of stooges well – they were big, they were dumb, and as long as you paid them they'd do anything you asked them to. So after he'd explicitly instructed the big dumb oaf outside to keep guard and _stay out there,_ he didn't expect the door to open again. He was confused when a pair of teenage girls walked in, one wearing a black and red school uniform that seemed oddly familiar and a fox Faunus in a white and grey one.

The girls were nonchalant as they began browsing the shelves, totally ignoring the gun he was pointing at them. "Hey! What the hell are you two doing?" he growled.

They ignored him, the blonde poking through some heavy cans while the fox girl rifled through party supplies.

"Are you two deaf or what?!" he snarled.

No response.

He hopped off the counter with a snarl and stalked towards the nearest one, the fox girl, as she inspected party poppers.

"Yo! Fox brat!"

The girl finally looked up, giving him a blank stare as she showed him the popper. "How much for this?" she asked.

"Huh?"

#1

The girl pulled the string, exploding the little popper in his face and showering him with streamers and confetti. The gunman panicked and fired, the bullet hitting nothing but air and giving the girl enough time to swung her leg up in a high kick and knock the pistol from his hand. She gave another swift kick to his knee, knocking him off balance before she spun on her heel and slammed a brutal roundhouse into his chest, sending the man flying into the shelves behind him, scattering and exploding the bags of chips on display. He didn't get up.

A long, pregnant pause held the room before the two stooges turned to see what was going on in the front.

"Hey, you!" one of them shouted, pointing his gun at the blonde. With a flick of her wrist she threw a can at his head, knocking him for a loop when it smacked against his nose and knocked him to the floor.

There was a loud bang at the back of the shop and three more girls stormed in. Blake saw the dazed man and leapt on top of him with surprising agility, and before he could even realize what was happening she grabbed his arms, twisted them, and pushed them as far back behind his body as she could without breaking his arms, making the man squeal in pain from the brutal arm lock.

With a blur of red rose petals, the last man was taken out with a flying tackle and slammed against a wall. The blur skidded to a stop in front of him, revealing Ruby as she sat on top of him and twisted an arm behind his back and up towards his shoulder blades.

The white-haired girl was miffed that she hadn't been able to dish out any violence, though she wasn't displeased as she picked the abandoned gun off the floor and held it out at the ready.

Ruby grinned from where she was pinning down her goon. "Okay, it's official! We have the best jobs _ever!"_

With a grin, Yang pumped a fist and yelled, "Hell yeah! Three points, you're out!"

"I do believe that it's strikes, Yang," Weiss cut in, somewhat giddy herself as adrenaline coursed through her. Connie glared at the gunman as he groaned, covered in potato chips and face under a coffee machine. In a fit of spite she jabbed a button, making scalding liquid pour down on his face.

Amid his pained shrieks, she turned to the cashier. "Are you alright?" she asked.

However, before the woman could respond, the air froze yet again when a toilet flushed at the back of the store. Much to their shock, all of them turned to see a fourth thug saunter out, whistling lightly before he saw the chaos that had ensued.

"Huh?" he grunted.

Yang blinked. "Huh?"

The thug quickly glanced around in panic before he rushed over to where the old lady was cowering by the refrigerators, and positioned the woman in front of his body as he pressed a gun against the side of her head. "Don't move!" he roared. Ruby panicked as well, furiously searching for a solution – Weiss did the same, though she couldn't risk leveling her gun at the man for fear of him shooting the woman.

Connie's eyes narrowed. "Blake?"

Looking up from where she held her thug, Blake asked, "What?"

"I thought you said there were three, not four."

Blake grimaced. "I miscalculated."

"_Throw down your gun, snowball!"_ the thug yelled.

"Hey!" Weiss shrieked.

"_Drop'em!"_

"You drop it! Besides, you're late to the party! You take too long to take a shit!" Yang yelled at him.

Silence.

With a quick glance, Ruby looked to her sister and gave her nod, who in turn nodded to Connie. In a flash, Yang snatched up another can and lobbed it towards the thug, who panicked as he turned his gun away from the woman to fire thee shots as it flew through the air. Connie ripped her own gun out and the thug's eyes widened as he realized there were now _two _guns pointed at him.

"I am going to _kill_ this old lady if you don't put down your guns!" he screamed, voice cracking as he pressed the gun against the woman's head, making her flinch. Ruby frantically searched for a way to end things without bloodshed, and sighed as she realized there wasn't one without putting the old woman in further danger.

"…Weiss?" Ruby said, not breaking eye contact with the thug. "Drop it. You too, Connie."

Weiss grimaced, and with great reluctance tossed her weapon away.

Connie did no such thing, instead striding forward as she steadied her aim with her free right hand.

"C-Connie! Stop!" Ruby yelled.

The thug glared at the fox girl. "Don't you get it? I'm going to _splatter_ grandma!"

"That's a real shame," Connie said in a cold, detached voice, making all of Team RWBY stare at her in shock. "But we're not cops and we're not from some charity organization. Sorry old lady, but you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Even the thug was shocked. "What?"

Connie shrugged. "You'll just have to chock it up to bad luck."

"Faunus bitch," the thug muttered.

Weiss said something similar as Ruby called out, "Connie! I know you don't mean that!"

It was then that the terrified old woman snapped, realizing her exact worth in Connie's eyes, and waved her fist at Connie as she screamed, "You little White Fang ingrate!"

The gunman growled as he realized the value of his hostage and leveled his gun at Connie, who only smiled.

Before he could fire she shot the gun out of his hand and put another into his shoulder, making him let go of the old lady as he fell back into the refrigerator. Amid shattering glass and the old woman's screams, the thug slumped to the ground as cold cans and jugs fell down on him, dazing him, before a final heavy jug of milk crashed down on his skull and knocked him out. The old woman stared at her former captor before she turned to Connie, who smiled as she strode up to them.

"Are you injured?" Connie asked, as she dragged the unconscious thug from under the mountain of cans.

The old woman shook her head in shock. "That… that was on purpose? Who are you?"

Holstering her gun, Connie shrugged and said, "I'm no one."

Ruby, having used a package of twine to secure her thug's hands behind his back, rushed up to Connie as she squealed, "_Connie! _That was so cool! How did you know that would get his gun away from grannie?"

"Yes, do tell us," Weiss spat, glaring at Connie. "We're _dying_ to know why you thought that risking a bullet in a civilian's brain was worth the risk."

"People make mistakes under pressure. I was baiting him," Connie said with a shrug.

Yang finished up securing the head gunman and passed Blake more twine, and strode up as she said, "Well, it all worked out, right? Team RWBY one, thugs zero!"

"We should get out of here before the police arrive," Blake said nervously. Just as she said that, all of them could hear faint sirens in the distance, making Ruby gulp nervously before dashing out the back door in a flash of petals.

"_Retreat!" _they heard her call out.

"How nice of her to wait for us," Weiss said with a chuckle, and all of them turned to rush out the back door. Yang and Blake made it through, but Connie was stopped by Weiss who hissed in her ear, "This isn't over. We are going to discuss _exactly _what happened today, do you hear me? I'm not going to put the lives of my teammates in the hands of the likes of _you."_

Connie shrugged off the heiress's hand and glared at her. "The likes of what? A Faunus?"

Weiss was silent.

"I've heard it all before, _Schnee._ Your opinion doesn't concern me," Connie shot, and turned to walk out the back door and into the alleyway.

"And whose does?" Weiss asked bitterly, not even close to willing to drop the matter.

"Not yours," Connie said dismissively, and ran to where the three others were waiting at the end of the alleyway.

Hours later, when they would all return to the dorms without accomplishing anything more besides retrieving Connie's book bag, Connie berated herself in her room and later in the garage as she worked on Grendel. Alone, she called herself every possible insult and demeaning slur for putting her new friend in danger, and vowed to never, _ever _let that happen again. In just the same way, Weiss promised herself that the moment Connie displayed even the slightest hint of wanting to turn on them, she would skewer the fox girl with Myrtenaster.

-O-O-O-

Anton Zurich huffed as he sank back into his chair, knocking back a good, healthy pull from a bottle of fine Atlesian vodka. The long, long day had turned to night, and apart from a minor incident in town about a thwarted convenience store robbery, nothing major had happened since Ozpin barged into his office. The aging man sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead, knowing that the confrontation would leave him looking over his shoulder for weeks. The inch-deep trench in his desk could attest to that.

Still, this was a golden opportunity, a fact that made Zurich glow with pride as he took another long drink. A man of his stature always had important contacts, and with this knowledge, _he'd_ be the one to lead his betters around by the nose.

He reached for his phone, but stopped. Should he go through with this? Once this was done there was no going back, and if _He_ found out Zurich was as good as dead.

Zurich took a breath and steeled himself. "Only he who does nothing makes no mistakes," he said, and snatched up the phone. He pounded in a number, and for an excruxiatingly long time was met with nothing but a dial tone.

_Click._

"Is this the Firefly?" Zurich asked, immediately straightening in his seat.

There was breath exhaled. _"This is he,"_ the voice answered, garbled enough that Zurich couldn't tell if it was, in fact, a man.

No going back. Zurich clenched his fist and said, "I have a job."

"…_I'm listening."_

"There are certain files that the Headmaster of Ironwood Academy will be going through," Zurich said. "Find them. Erase them. Leave no trace."

"…_Sounds easy enough."_

"I will send you a communique with the list of files. Make sure none of them remain after tonight."

As he said this, Zurich fed a list through his fax machine. The bits of data were sent through the VDF network and onto the internet, where it bounced around twenty separate, random servers before arriving at it's destination.

"_I have the list. I'll have to charge triple for a rush job."_

Zurich gave a grim smile – then again, the Firefly was one of the best hackers in the world. He would get what he paid for. "Very well. See that it's done."

He moved to hang up the phone.

"_Wait. These files are random. Just what are you having me clean up, Anton Zurich?"_

Zurich's stomach clenched at the use of his name. Then again, he didn't expect anything less from a super class-A hacker. Still, he could give the data cruncher an idea of what was going on.

With a grim smile, Zurich took a long pull of his vodka before he said, "Leverage, my dear Firefly. Leverage."

Ozpin – Raven Branwen ?

Summer Rose

Tai-Yang Xiao Long

Qrow Branwen

-Raven and Qrow are sister and brother.

-Raven married Taiyang, which made Qrow Taiyang's brother-in-law.

-Taiyang and Raven had Yang, who looks almost identical to Raven thanks to the almighty power of genetics, yet has a different eye colour (When not mad) and hair color as those she got them from Taiyang.

-Summer is completely unrelated to Raven other than the fact they were on the same team and knew each other.

-When Raven left for X reason, Taiyang married Summer either because she: a)Reminded him of Raven, or b)Was part of his team and has been there for him ever since.

-Summer married Taiyang not so much out of love, but out of sympathy. She didn't want him to get more depressed.

-They had Ruby. Qrow, who was still there for Taiyang, trained Ruby in the art of the gunscythe so she could defend herself, and later to be a hunter.

-The reason Ruby wears clothes with lots of black and red, is because Taiyang raised her to like those colors, which, if you guys don't remember, are **Raven's** colors. Even by the time Ruby came to his life, he still couldn't get past Raven's departure.

-After Summer died and Taiyang almost lost his daughters, he became very over-protective of them to not lose them like he lost Raven and Summer. Qrow, who so far had been a good bro to him, convinced him to not worry that much, and he would protect them too, so Taiyang let Yang and later Ruby to train and become hunters despite possibly suffering the same fate as Raven and Summer.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: That Escalated Quickly

_So. Three months. I don't know what to say to possibly apologize, so I won't - I'll simply tell you what happened._

_Life happened._

_First, it was a move. I'll tell you, it wasn't easy moving twenty years of accumulated shit. It took over a month, on top of having to clean and paint a house that we were promised up and down that it was ready to move in. We might not even be able to build what we want on the place. Realtors suck. This is on top of me developing minor writer's block, and by the time I wanted to write again I was too damn tired to think straight._

_Just ask Karma - I've been extremely negligent to responding to her._

_Anyway, that's what happened. Writer's block, moving, minor depression brought on by exhaustion, no big. I spit in life's general direction, because I'm back._

_Later_

_RYNO_

* * *

Despite what many people thought, the Schnee Dust Company was not fortunate enough to have its richest Dust mines within Mantle's borders. No, the richest deposits that it owned existed in the other kingdoms, two of which were located in Vale. SRD-04 was one such mine that lay in the northern half of the Emerald Forest, remote enough that only Bullsharks were able to carry off the valuable cargo without the exorbitant price of laying down track for a train. Most people would never even dream of using such a hostile environment for a mine – it was surrounded on all sides by Grimm-infested forest, with no natural barriers to help fend off the hordes of darkness aside from a hillock half a mile to the east. A big hole in the ground? With no escape for any hapless workers? SRD-04 was little better than a buffet. It stood to reason that no other SDC-run facility dealt out as much hazard pay as this single mine.

Of course, no other mine paid out nearly as much insurance to the miner's families, either.

Despite only being in operation for the past year, SRD-04 was one of the most Dust-rich veins in all of Remnant. Unbelievably massive veins of the precious resource lay below the surface, a few being the extremely rare self-revitalizing deposits.

Dust, despite what many conspiracy theorists believed, was not a limited resource. All veins would regrow once mined, but that could take anywhere from a decade to over a hundred years. However, certain veins grew where the world's natural energies intersected, providing veins of Dust that regrew at an unbelievable rate, reaching maximum density in little over a week. It was little surprise that despite the mine's hazardous location and exorbitant costs to maintain, the Schnee Dust Company was dead-set on keeping SRD-04 in their clutches. They had already made spectacular use of the three other vaunted regenerating mines, leading to many of their modern achievements.

Normally the mine would be protected by twenty-foot tall defense towers, set in a rough circle around the facility. Their sensors could detect Grimm almost a mile away, and had more than enough firepower to eliminate them. Of course, this would the case if the main generator hadn't failed in a catastrophic power cascade, sending an electrical surge far larger than was ever intended through the lines. The miners were able to get a backup generator running to reboot the tunnel life support system and to get the elevators running, and though they had managed to get some of the miners evacuated it still wasn't nearly enough. It was inevitable that the rising panic and terror of the workers had attracted the attention of Grimm in the surrounding forest, and they were starting to move in.

"_Movement! You called it; closest contact is five minutes from your position, directly north. You're right in the way of the mine, sir."_

A team of four were all that stood between the miners and a murderous swarm of Grimm. One was nervous, another was focused, and the third was excited while the fourth was calm. Their simple patrol had morphed into something far worse, and help from Beacon would arrive far too late to do anything besides pick up the bodies if they didn't intervene.

On the other hand, they _did _have support, both from overwatch and their newly-modified scrolls.

All four of their scrolls beeped, opening to a map overlay of the area. Sure enough there was a swarm of red dots approaching from the north. Luckily, their leader had guessed correctly and put the group in between the Grimm and the evacuation.

Suddenly, there was a loud roar from the nearby forest. The four looked up to see a lone Beowolf bound from the tree, but any sense of relief was destroyed when a horde burst out right after it, a mix of Beowolves, Ursa, and Boarbatusks. Thankfully it was nowhere near the size of that been cleared during the special Initiation, but it was still enough to make the ground tremble.

The four gave battle cries of their own, and as they dove into the fray blue lances of explosive Dust cut into the Grimm. It was pure chaos.

-O-O-O-

BEFORE

As the leader of Team JNPR, Jaune Arc was not, by any definition of the word, brave. He himself could attest to the fact that he was quite possibly one of the most cowardly men in Vale, possibly in all of Remnant. He couldn't swing a sword to save his life, let alone save someone else's. So, how was he in command of a team? That could only be answered by Professor Ozpin. And after asking him over a dozen times, Jaune could quite certainly say that the man was never in a talking mood when it came to the methods to his madness. He had three reasons why he _should not_ be in command, all three of which were gearing up alongside him in the locker rooms.

Reason one, Lie Ren. He was a quiet teen, a foreigner whose grandparents immigrated from Mistral. What he lacked in armor he made up for in sheer agility and knowledge of his body and what it could do. He used a pair of bladed submachine pistols he had dubbed Stormflower, and while Ren was often the subject of Team CRDL's bullying because of his slow, gentle behavior, the 'girly' name he gave his weapons and even the pink lock of hair that his partner made sure to decorate every night, Jaune knew his control of Aura was second to none and could wipe the floor with anyone in the school, Cardin and his flunkies included. He simply chose not to.

The second reason was Nora Valkyrie. While the girl's sheer insanity had – and still – baffled Jaune, he knew that she was a powerhouse that was barely kept in check by Ren's calm demeanor. She handled her warhammer and grenade launcher hybrid, Magnhild, with such practiced ease that scared Jaune silly when it was blatantly apparent that a single direct strike from the weapon could reduce one's Aura reserves to nil. Her madness could only be rivaled by her hyperactive behavior, love of pancakes, and undying loyalty and affection for her partner, though she would always claim that they were not _together_ together. Only time would tell on that front.

Lastly, Pyrrha Nikos. The Invincible Woman. The Amazon Champion. The Ender. Whatever name you gave her, Pyrrha was by far one of the most talented people that Jaune had ever met. She handled her sword and shield, Miló and Akoúo̱, with such practiced ease that it made Jaune feel silly sometimes to even swing his own sword in front of her. Not only that, but Miló could shift into _three different forms_. Handling a sword and shield at the same time was bad enough, but being able to use a sword, spear, _and_ rifle in the middle of combat? Jaune had nothing but admiration for his partner, and knew that she could handle whatever task she set herself to. She was loyal, reliable, kind, beautiful, and caring to a fault. Jaune knew that he was lucky to have ended up as her partner.

So why was he the leader of such talented people? Him? The loser of Beacon? Jaune didn't know. And now he was supposed to be in command of yet _another _talented girl? He had the distinct impression that whatever gods there were hated him.

When Jaune had gotten the bulletin on his scroll that his team was the first to go on patrol with Constance Carlisle, the pilot of the Dust-powered hovertank, he was immediately panicked. The last month and a half in the school had been more than enough for him to know that he was out of his league, and he was expected to command _her_, a military-trained professional _and_ his team on an actual patrol outside Vale? Sure, he had seen a weakness on that Death Stalker that no one else noticed, but surely that wasn't enough for Ozpin to trust him with the lives of four people.

Right?

Jaune swallowed, and tried to keep the tremble in his voice to a minimum as he began, "So, what's the plan?"

With a smile, Pyrrha looked up from where she'd been sitting on a bench, adjusting her greaves. "Shouldn't we be ones to ask you that?"

Ren made a final adjustment to his jacket and tucked his pistols inside his sleeves before he turned to his leader. "We won't be able to make a plan until we know the details, Jaune," he murmured, and softly closed his locker.

"_Yeah!"_ Nora crowed as she kicked her locker shut. Ren didn't even have time to scold her before she glomped herself over his shoulders, and with a maniacal gleam in her eyes shouted, "But when we find'em I can _smash,_ right Renny?"

"That's up to Jaune to decide," Ren gritted out, staggering under the weight of his partner. "Please get off…"

"Okay!"

Shaking his head at the antics of the two life-long friends, Jaune adjusted the final strap on his breastplate before closing his locker. He took a quick glance at his scroll before he said, "Alright, I think we've got time before we have to meet with the pilot. Any ideas, guys?"

Ren nodded. "We should probably head over there now. If we're punctual it would reflect well on us."

With mumbled agreements, Team JNPR finished their final preparations before they headed out. It was early in the morning, which meant that almost no other students were up and about. Hell, if it was up to Jaune he wouldn't be up and about until about five minutes before class started. At the very least it was peaceful as the team made their way outside.

At least, that's what Jaune would have liked. Cardin was strutting down the hall in full armor and weapon at his hip. Despite the impossibility of Cardin being up when he could be unconscious in his dorm, it seemed that he had been training as he was panting and stretching his arms. However, as soon as he spied Jaune he gave a happy grin, _too_ happy, one that promised nothing but pain and misery for Jaune as the group passed the bully in the hall.

As Cardin turned around the corner, Pyrrha stopped glaring over her shoulder and turned it to the front door instead. "I really despise that boy," she muttered, all but throwing the door open and stalking out into the early morning air.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want us to break his legs, Jaune?" Nora asked all-too sweetly. "It wouldn't be any trouble! Just a _smash-smash_ and there you go!"

Ren nodded with a solemn expression. "That is true. I've seen it before."

Jaune paled and turned to his team, as they stood before the grand statue in front of the school. "No! Guys, really, _it's fine._ Cardin's just playing around, he's not doing any harm!"

"Any _physical _harm," Pyrrha muttered, and before they could go any further she turned and grabbed the front of Jaune's breastplate, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Jaune, you'd tell us if you were in trouble or needed help, wouldn't you?"

Jaune gulped, growing cold. "Y-yeah?" he lied. Not even he could convince himself.

He all but cowered as Pyrrha stared into his very soul, analyzing him. With a sigh she nodded and let go, not believing him, but unable to do anything but trust him for his word as their leader. Whatever value that had, he drily thought to himself.

The team crossed the lawn surrounding Beacon as they headed for the eastern side of the plateau, where the practice field was. It was actually the original sparring grounds, but after years of being torn apart by explosions and Aura attacks, it was no longer suitable for fear of someone twisting an ankle on the roughened terrain. In the middle of heightened combat when adrenaline would be pumping and a fraction of a second could mean the difference between victory and defeat, a simple sprain would go unnoticed and turn into a debilitating injury. Either way, the abandoned field was overgrown with grass and weeds, hiding the ruts from view, and Jaune was hardly surprised when he tripped as soon as he stepped foot on the field.

"Jaune! Are you alright?" Pyrrha asked in concern.

Spitting out a wad of grass, Jaune blushed in embarrassment before grinning. "Swell," he gritted out.

This was seriously not helping his case.

They made their way across the field, all the while helping Jaune whenever he tripped. He swore the weeds were out to murder him they eventually made it, panting and covered in dirt and grass stains while the rest of his team had escaped the insidious weeds unscathed. Still, he froze as soon as he laid eyes on their destination.

They had become still as statues as they warily eyed the so-called 'garage'. It was a squat structure, the kind that substations were housed in. Despite the cleaning that the Beacon janitors had given it, the place was still overgrown with ivy and weeds, and windows that were shadowed by dust and dirt, making it impossible to see inside. It was forlorn, derelict – it was the kind of place that one would see at the start of a horror movie before everything went down the toilet. Though they could see why it was a garage, as there was a pair of large, rolling shutters next to the heavy security door.

"Well, this place is… promising," Ren said.

Silently agreeing, the four waited.

Jaune gulped. "U-um, shouldn't we, you know… go in?"

"Yes, we should!" Pyrrha said with a smile. "And as leader, you should go in first!"

"Wait, _what?!"_

"Yeah!" Nora cheered.

Freezing, Jaune slowly looked between his traitorous partner and resident hyperactive maniac. "G-guys? Ren?"

Jaune's hopeful look was immediately quashed when Ren crossed his arms and said, "I do believe that it's the duty of the leader to introduce the group, Jaune."

_Traitors!_

With a gulp and a nervous chuckle, Jaune resigned himself to whatever horrors lurked in the Outhouse from Hell as he quietly slinked towards the door, reduced to baby steps by the time he reached it. The blood rushed through his ears, making the silence deafening as he reached out, and slowly and carefully began to –

"BE CAREFUL, JAUNE!"

Jaune gave a girlish shriek when Nora yelled in his ear, making him fall back against the door in shock. At seeing the ginger-haired girl giggle as she playfully swung her arms, Jaune growled and cried indignantly, "_Nora!_ I almost had a heart attack!"

"But you're taking too long!" Nora said gleefully, laughing as she gave him a playful shove. Unfortunately, a playful shove from her was like a head-on charge from an Ursa – needless to say, Jaune screamed as he burst through the armored security door like he was little more than a human bowling ball. Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora winced as his body crashed against something, making even more things fall over amid his pained screams.

"_Why?!"_ he screamed in dismay.

Nora blinked and pointed to her partner. "Ren did it," she said, making him sigh tiredly.

Pyrrha shook her head as she ventured within, hand on Miló just in case.

The inside of the garage was, shockingly, not nearly as derelict as the outside. Where there were overgrown weeds outside, there was nothing but freshly scrubbed floors and walls on the inside, with the back of the garage lined with tool benches and a heavy-looking cylinder that squatted in the corner, with a hose coiled on a hook beside it. It was a Dust capacitor, a mobile charging station for Dust-powered machines. While much of the place was dated – dingy lighting and cracked floors, with a faint smell of must – the garage had certainly been transformed from the neglected ruin it once was.

Pyrrha could see Jaune where he had collided with some shelving, and scattered pieces of metal and parts lay around him. Though, if his groaning didn't get her attention, the machine in the room certainly did.

Pyrrha sheathed her blade as she stared in awe of the tank. It was inactive, making it little better than a paperweight at the moment, but it had more than enough presence to make even her stop and stare at it. Currently it rested on its footpads, belly nearly touching the ground as it awaited its pilot. From what Pyrrha could tell the garage had been converted from a locker room – though she didn't know all the details, she did know that it had been the previous weapons storage before it was moved inside Beacon. Something about someone trying to break in and steal the weaponry.

"My back…" Jaune groaned.

As Pyrrha gave an amused smile and walked over to help her partner out of the mess he'd landed in, Nora's mouth was gaping as she took in the sight of the tank. It sent shivers down Ren's spine.

"…Ren?" Nora muttered.

_Oh, Dust…_

"Yes, Nora?"

"I know what I want for Christmas."

"Nora," Ren began, "you're not getting a Dust-powered hovertank for Christmas."

_I nearly died the day she finished Magnhild… the world could very well end if she gets something like this!_

Nora pouted and whined, "But why not?!"

"Because then she'd be in violation of Public Safety Stature Thirteen: 'Under no circumstances are unlicensed or untrained individuals allowed access to military weapons without prior approval or guidance,'" a voice behind them said, quiet and stern.

Nora and Ren slowly turned, while Pyrrha looked over her shoulder as she hauled her partner out of the mess Nora made with him. Standing by the door was the fox Faunus herself, clad in her piloting suit with the helmet tucked under her arm. However, most of all, she looked _extremely_ displeased. She bored her glare into each of them before demanding, "So, which one of you broke down my door?"

-O-O-O-

Floating. Drifting. Black. Nothing. Calm. Peace. The silence of sleep was something she cherished. It chased away the horrors of the day, ushering in the peace of the night. She could turn herself off and just… let herself be carried away.

And then she opened her eyes.

Connie sighed, rubbing her brow in irritation. It seemed no matter how she'd tried to fight it, she'd always wake at 0500 hours on the dot. Even as she lay there, letting her mind drift off, she could hear the early-morning chirps of the birds outside and see the morning light shine on the wall, burning away the fog she knew to be there. She'd seen it practically every morning in the last two weeks she'd been in Beacon. Now, however, she could see nothing from where she had cloistered herself between the bed and the wall on the floor, in the farthest corner from the door. Her bed was honestly the most comfortable thing she'd ever slept in, but after the first night of merely passing out, she'd felt too vulnerable to sleep in it again, too exposed. Her solution was to simply gather the blankets, sheets and pillows from each bed and throw them into a secluded corner. There wasn't much room to move between the wall and the bed, but her little nest was cozy.

So far, no one had reprimanded her. Having no one to invade her dorm helped, Connie supposed. Her nest was far more comfortable than the bed anyway. Sighing to herself, Connie crawled out of her bundle and got to her feet, cracking her neck as she strode to the duffle she had abandoned on the nearest bed. It was as she was pulling out yet another spare Ironwood uniform that she spied a note she had left on the nightstand between the two beds, laying out in the morning sun. Blearily, she grabbed the note and looked it over, wondering just what was so important that she needed to write it down.

_First patrol begins today. No classes. Get to garage by 0800._

Connie blinked, remembering. That was right, the first patrol of her position as a glorified tour guide began today. Then again, she supposed, that the patrols weren't for her sake but for the students of Beacon. Truth be told, she was rather curious on how well the students here would react if they were suddenly thrust into a command position that went beyond their own group. In all honesty she was looking forward to it. Her History, Grimm Studies and Sparring classes were going well, even if she hardly understood a thing in Oobleck's class, had gone over the anatomy of a Beowolf about a dozen times, and had never been called on in Sparring. Her classes passed the time, but they were nothing compared to the feeling of her tank's reactor rumbling through her body.

Her fox was growing restless – if she didn't let it out soon, it would force itself. And that was never pretty.

She reached for the piloting suit that had been languishing on the bed ever since her Initiation and headed for the bathroom. Still in a stupor, it took her a moment before she realized she had left another note for herself on the mirror.

_One week left. Make your decision._

At this, Connie's mind jolted awake. Truth be told, the deal she made with Ozpin was never far from her mind. The first two weeks she'd been adamant with herself that she'd stay a month as agreed, and then she'd move on. Ozpin would be out a pilot, but what was her concern with that? Of course, that was before her encounters with Team RWBY. Weiss she'd have no trouble with dumping at the side of the road. Blake? There were too many unknowns about her – her strange scent included – but Connie would… _probably _hesitate before doing anything rash. Yang and her almost motherly demeanor towards those she was familiar with were quickly growing on her, though Connie still insisted on keeping her at arm's length.

And then there was Ruby. Connie was loathe to admit it, but the red-hooded girl had wormed her way through her shell. It was… hard to explain, especially to herself. If she had to lay it out in the simplest terms, it was that Ruby had nothing to hide. No secrets. No ulterior motives. She was just Ruby. And Connie was quickly growing more and more attached to her. Still, even with all that happened, was it all enough to convince her to stay? She couldn't answer that.

Connie caught herself smiling in the mirror. Wiping it from her face, she stripped and stepped into the laughably small shower, though she found she didn't care enough to scold herself.

Lost in thought as she stood under the searing torrent of water, it still didn't change the fact that her deadline was coming up. One way or another she needed to make a decision. After Ruby's actions and words she couldn't help but trust the girl, something she hadn't done in years. But did that sway her decision enough? Twenty minutes had passed by the time she'd cleaned herself and shrugged on the piloting suit without her really paying attention, and yet she still didn't have an answer.

At any rate, it was time for the first patrol.

Armed and with helmet in hand, Connie left her dorm – giving Team RWBY's door a long stare as she passed – and made her way down to the second floor landing. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice until after she ran into them that someone was on the stairwell as well, though the other person was caught off balance and nearly fell back. Connie gasped and instinctively reached out for the person's hand, grunting as they nearly took her off her feet as well and had to hold onto the railing for an anchor.

"Are you…" Connie began, only to meet to the eyes of the student she saved.

Cardin Winchester.

Cardin, sweaty and most likely coming from a workout, was just as surprised to see her, though he scowled and once he got his feet back under him ripped his hand away and said mockingly, "I don't need _your_ help, animal_._ Why don't you watch where you're going?"

After staring at the teen for a long moment, mind struggling to decide what to do, Connie's training kicked in just in time before she became angry. She straightened herself, giving Cardin a slight bow as she said apologetically, "Forgive my carelessness, Mister Winchester. If you'll excuse me, I must leave."

She went to walk around him, mind still roiling, only for Cardin to grip her arm and throw her back. She ripped herself away and glared at him as he said, "You're excused when I'm done with you. _You owe me."_

Connie blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You owe me!" Cardin snarled again.

"For what?"

"_Professor Port's class,_" Cardin growled. "You _humiliated_ me. And the stairs! And the fucking cafeteria! You made me look like an idiot in front of the whole school!"

…What?

Connie stared Cardin down. He was big. He could _throw_ her. And more than that, he was pissed.

Falcone used the wealth, fame and power of his name to bend people to his will, catching them when they were alone to mentally overpower them, and using his surprising strength when that didn't work. Conversely, Cardin used the size of his body to get his way, being shorter than the older Winchester, but was certainly more physically intimidating. Though, compared to Falcone, he wasn't nearly as daunting to her. She inwardly chuckled to herself – maybe that was part of why she attacked him on her first day?

Whatever.

She sighed, shrugging off the familiar sensation of her training and stared Cardin down. "I have no time for games, Winchester," she growled_._ "_I_ humiliated you? _You_ did that well enough yourself."

Cardin snarled and opened his mouth to say –

"I have somewhere I need to be," she interrupted, brushing past him. "Use that thing you call a brain and try to come up with a better reason why you're keeping me from my assigned duties. Maybe it would keep Goodwitch from assigning you latrine duty."

Connie was stopped once again when Cardin grabbed her shoulder. "_Don't turn your back on me,"_ he snarled, almost making her fearful of him.

Almost.

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Falcone Winchester is your brother, correct? Why don't you get some more pointers on bullying, you both seem to enjoy it."

At this, Connie shrugged out of Cardin's suddenly lax grip and walked down the flight of stairs, but when she turned on the landing she got one last glimpse at Cardin's face.

The distraught look he had was almost enough for her to stop.

Pushing it out of her mind, Connie walked down to the first floor. Not surprisingly, there weren't any other students up at the time, though she noticed Professor Goodwitch walking out of the cafeteria with a plate of food and a large thermos in hand, presumably coffee. Giving the blonde teacher a nod as she passed, she headed toward the entry hall and out the door. The birds were chirping in the early morning air, and Connie breathed in the smells she had begun to associate with Beacon, which seemed to be unique to the school alone. Maybe it was simply because the school had been there for a long time, or maybe it was the generations of Hunters that had allowed their Auras to seep into the very ground.

Either way, it put Connie at ease, like the countless age-old warriors were still watching over them all.

And then, the moment ended. There was a loud bang in the distance, scaring the birds into silence and drawing Connie out of her thoughts. She frowned – it sounded like it came from the eastern training grounds.

Her eyes widened and she began sprinting for her new garage. She practically flew as she sped across the grounds and through the light thicket of trees, and sure enough as she broke free to the old practice area, she saw that someone had broken down the door to the garage.

_Is it Falcone!? I didn't think he'd try to get payback so quickly!_

She sprinted once more, unaffected by the rough ground that the overgrown grass hid from view, and skidded to a stop just before the doorway.

"_-know what I want for Christmas."_

Connie frowned. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

"_Nora, you're not getting a Dust-powered tank for Christmas."_

Connie let out a relieved breath. Nora was that girl on Team JNPR – she wasn't familiar with them, but she also knew that while the girl was insane, she was about as innocent as Ruby. They were the ones she was supposed to go on patrol with.

"_But why not?!"_

Composing herself, Connie stepped through the door and her eyes widened at seeing the state of her garage. Relief was overruled her outrage as she gritted out, "Because then she'd be in violation of Public Safety Stature Thirteen. 'Under no circumstances are unlicensed or untrained individuals allowed access to military weapons without prior approval or guidance.'"

-O-O-O-

The rest of the morning went about as well as Jaune could've expected it to. After being stared down by the fox Faunus, Jaune was slammed with about a week's worth of homework to do in less than an hour and a half, all neatly packaged in a data file that Connie had sent to his scroll. Seeing as this was a test, she packed as much information she could into that file – the patrol path, the surrounding areas, danger zones, nearby structures along the way, species of Grimm they could expect to see, what the weather would be, a schedule for the patrol, and lastly, the procedure to take if they were separated. It was all important in one way or another, but in reality, someone who was in command would usually have time to work through it all and plan out a strategy. Jaune was immediately panicked as he crammed as much information into his poor brain as he could. His only consolation was that if he had been on time - if Team JNPR had arrived at seven in the morning as planned - he would only have had a few minutes before the patrol actually began.

Of course, that was a moot point when Nora was doing her best impression of a sloth on Ren's shoulders and Pyrrha trying to give pointers as best she could. It was all so distracting… and while he knew his partner meant well, _he didn't need her help._

By the time the patrol began, Jaune was discouraged, Pyrrha was irritated from being ignored, Ren was exhausted, and Nora was more hyperactive than ever. They all clambered on Grendel's turret, much to Connie's ire, who roared out of the garage in a heart-stopping burst of speed. Nora, naturally, whooped in excitement.

Jaune, Ren, and Pyrrha? Not so much, though Jaune was too busy screaming to notice Ren's resignation or Pyrrha's ever-so slight smirk or the excitement in her eyes.

It was noon, several hours into the patrol, and they were drifting along an old logging trail at an easy pace. Their circuit would take them from the crisp evergreens of the Emerald Forest and into the Forever Fall, looping to within a few miles of Vale before coming back around to the cargo elevator that was nearly hidden at the backside of the Beacon Plateau. It was a massive circuit around the school, and would take them the rest of the day, easily; possibly well into the night if any complications arose.

Jaune hoped to whatever god there was that there _weren't _any complications.

Still, he supposed the wind felt nice as he sat on Grendel's turret, watching the trees around them for any sign of Grimm. The only break in the monotony was when there had been a lone Beowolf crossing the path – Nora had leapt at the chance, literally, when she launched herself with an explosion and struck the Grimm with an impressive golf swing, screaming, _"Fore!"_ as she propelled the beast straight into the stratosphere.

All of them felt some amount of pity for the Beowolf's fate.

Jaune felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Pyrrha looking at him questioningly. "Where are we?" she asked.

He was too fast as he jerked the scroll from his pocket – it immediately flew from his grasp and each time he tried to grab it, it merely danced among his fingers. Finally it bounced away from him and fell right into the open hatch of the tank's cockpit, and Jaune winced when the scroll hit the side of Connie's helmet with a loud crack. Slowly, she reached over and flicked a switch, the autopilot keeping the tank on course as she turned in her seat to pin Jaune in place with her helmet's red-eyed glare. "Is this yours?" she asked, her filtered voice taking on a terrifying edge as she held the offending device up.

Jaune gulped, hands shaky as he reached for it. "A-ah, yeah, i-it is. Can I have it –"

He wasn't able to finish his sentence before Connie's arm blurred, and Jaune's world exploded into white-hot pain as the scroll slammed into his forehead. He wailed in agony, flopping back onto the turret, and Connie sank back in her seat as she snarled, "Pay attention, _Commander."_

Nora, who had been watching closely, leaned in to Ren's ear and loudly whispered, "_I don't think she likes him."_

All in all, Connie wasn't impressed. With the team as a whole, sure. They were talented, always aware of their surroundings – even Nora, who she thought was going to be the major problem, was alert and attentive as she scanned the forest around them, though it was mainly to find another Grimm to punt. But looking at the individuals it was clear that Jaune was the weak link. He just seemed so utterly _normal_ that she was surprised he was training to be a Huntsman in the first place, seeming more suited to a life as a baker or a desk jockey. One needed a certain amount of insanity – or discipline – to want to throw themselves into danger on a daily basis and Jaune had neither of those traits. He was cowardly, fearful, and both physically and mentally unaccustomed to combat.

With the other three displaying such talent, Connie felt pained as she wrote down more notes for when she and Goodwitch decided on their grade. For the team as a whole, it didn't look good. Still, despite her harshness she hadn't passed judgement _yet._ Obviously Jaune had at least _some_ redeeming qualities, otherwise the rest of his team wouldn't function as well as it did. It reminded her of her old fireteam back in Atlas, to be honest. In the two years she'd spent with them she was always the weakest pilot out of all of them, too busy being mindfucked by the instructors and trying to distract herself from the fates of her parents to do anything worthwhile.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she felt a tingle at the back of her neck, and turned in her seat to see Pyrrha about to tap her shoulder as she looked somewhere towards the horizon. "Stop the tank," she said distantly, but the serious tone in her voice gave Connie pause. She pulled back the throttle, letting the turbines settle into a soft whine as Grendel gently drifted to a stop. Pyrrha immediately jumped down, much to the confusion of her team as she quickly looked back and forth.

"Hey, why'd we stop?" Nora asked Ren. He gave a simple shake of his head, sensing something was wrong.

Jaune didn't know what was going on. Pyrrha had suddenly stiffened and shot from where she sat, obviously sensing _something,_ but for the life of him he couldn't tell what. He calmed himself, trying to recall Professor Goodwitch's exact words on how to sense danger with one's Aura, but… there was nothing.

Suddenly, he realized that was it. There was no wind, no animals, nothing. The silence had a sudden sense of _wrongness _to it, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Apparently the feeling was mutual among the five of them, as even Nora was looking around warily.

Connie's fingers flew over her keyboard, working Grendel's sensors to find the disturbance. There wasn't anything, much to her frustration, no Grimm that explained the stillness. She checked the seal on her helmet and attached the breathing tube, making sure she was ready for combat at a moment's notice. Her hands were sweating, flexing as she gripped her control sticks, and her nervousness seemed to spread as soon Team JNPR had a hand on their respective weapons. The tension seemed to choke all of them, making them wish that whatever was out there would _attack _already and end the torment.

It ended when they _felt_ rather than heard a dull crump in the distance, making the very ground shake.

Jaune shared a single look with his team – that was definitely an explosion, and the rising smoke cloud was pretty damning.

"Connie, we need to go over there! Explosions don't just happen!" he said, any trace of fear gone from his voice.

Connie noticed it as well. She smiled beneath her helmet, and she shouted, "Yes _sir!"_ as she spun Grendel towards the smoke cloud, straight through the trees. As she closed the hatch she shouted again, "Better hold on! We're going froading!"

Jaune didn't notice his team grab on to something, instead yelling, "What's froa- _WHAAAAA!"_

He tumbled back but was saved from falling off when Pyrrha grabbed her partner's hoodie, though he was simultaneously strangled and his backside roasted as he dangled off the back of Grendel. Still, Connie didn't slow, slaloming through the trees at a pace that made Pyrrha go green from the amount of near misses in the first _five seconds._ Grendel juked to the side, nearly throwing her passengers off, and shuddered when her main cannon boomed and practically disintegrated a tree that they couldn't dodge.

"This! Is! AWESOME!" Nora shouted, throwing a hand in the air and laughing as they barreled through the cloud of dust and wood chips, having the time of her life amid Jaune's shrieks of pain and terror.

Ren braced himself as he wrapped an arm around his friend's waist. "Both hands, Nora!"

"Okay!"

The enthusiastic girl barely had time to grab on once more before Connie pitched Grendel sideways around a tree, letting her stern slam into the trunk of another mid-drift to bounce back on course. Somehow, it was Nora that was clinging to her teammates to keep them from falling off, her arms wrapped around the waists of Ren, Pyrrha, and a badly-singed Jaune and squeezing the life out of them as she continued to scream in excitement.

"How insane is she?!" Jaune shrieked, both from his terror and the pain of being crushed to death.

"I don't know!" Ren shouted.

All of them were relieved when Pyrrha managed to peek around Nora's shoulder, and shouted, "I see light ahead!"

Grendel blasted through another tree, juked around a second, and then it was over. All four of them were blinded when the tank suddenly burst out of the trees and into the light, and it took them a moment to adjust and see that Grendel was speeding through a cleared section of the forest to what could only be called a massive hole in the ground. Towers dotted the perimeter of the pit, and they were stunned when they realized that they were turret emplacements, massive bulwarks of steel that contained enough firepower to shred anything that came across their sensors. They should've been dead before they even finished clearing the forest.

And yet the four they were nearest to were completely silent, their cannons slack and aimed at the ground, with the only explanation being the smoke cloud rising from the pit itself.

Grendel slowed, Connie popping the hatch as she leaned out of her cockpit to get a closer look at the towers and the familiar symbol emblazoned on them. Once she recognized them, she flopped back in her seat with a groaned, "Oh no…"

It was a stylized snowflake. The symbol of the Schnee Dust Company.

Team JPNR looking up from where they had been cowering behind the turret and saw the symbol as well, making them stiffen.

"Uh," Jaune gulped, "Wh-what did we just walk in on, guys?"

Eyeing the dead tower and the rising smoke, Ren paused before he said, "We may have walked in on a Schnee Dust mine being sabotaged, Jaune."

At this, Jaune gulped. "Y-you mean the White Fang?"

"_Atrocious,"_ Pyrrha hissed, drawing her sword and shield. "They spit on the honor of Faunus _everywhere."_

Nora was pale, sick as she eyed the edge of the mine. "Was anyone hurt?" she meekly asked.

At hearing this, Pyrrha looked to Jaune and said angrily, "We need to check it out, people may need our help."

"Agreed," Ren offered.

Taking a breath to beat back his fear, Jaune put on the bravest face he could manage as he knelt beside the cockpit and said to Connie, "We need to get down in there."

She nodded, and Jaune was about to turn when she grabbed his breastplate and pulled him down, his nose almost touching her faceplate as she said gravely, "This may be a live combat situation, Mister Arc. The White Fang _do not_ take prisoners, remember that."

Jaune was shaken, terrified, and sick to his stomach. He wanted nothing more than turn tail and go back to Beacon. Screw the grade, screw becoming a Huntsman, and screw Ozpin wanting his students shoved into something a Hunter shouldn't have to deal with. And yet… those people. The miners would be defenseless. And he couldn't in good conscience leave his entire team out to dry. Struggling to contain to the vomit that was slowly rising up his throat, Jaune gave a shaky nod and said, "A-alright, got it."

Connie stared into his eyes, her own gaze piercing because of her helmet, but despite Jaune's obvious fear he was able to push it aside. She could see his determination. If nothing else, he had earned at least a little respect from her – not many people were able to swallow their fear to do what was necessary. Satisfied that he understood and wasn't going to throw them to the wolves, she gave him a simple nod.

He remained there, frozen and distant, before the gleam returned to his eyes and he rounded on his teammates. "Alright guys," he said, "people down there need our help. What's the plan?"

-O-O-O-

THE NEAR FUTURE…

Her heart thundered in her chest, ears pulsing in time to the thrum of her tank's turbines. Her hands flew over her controls, eyes even quicker as she glanced at each sensor readout, camera feed, and radar screen. Each time the cannon fired the barrel recoiled back, kicking up a cloud of dust around the tank. And with each blast, energized Dust would travel from the reactor through the tank's fuel lines and pool in specialized capacitors in the turret, waiting to be dumped into the firing chamber where it would be suspended by magnetic pulses. With every pull of the trigger, the waiting Dust would be dragged through the barrel by electromagnets, reaching supersonic velocities by the time it left the barrel. Truth be told, this process was applied to any weapon that fired Dust – gunpowder had been found to be too dangerous to fire a Dust round, as it was just as likely that the round would explode in the barrel as it was to fire. The ball of Dust was bright enough that it would leave a trail of light as it flew through the air, burned into the retinas for anyone unfortunate enough to look directly at it and making the illusion of a lance of pure energy. Or, more outlandishly, a laser. Of course, the pilot was protected from Dust Burn, as both the camera feeds and her helmet filtered out the blinding light. Practically any weapon that used Dust in some form was this strange amalgamation of a magnetic rifle and a conventional firearm.

The tank slalomed around a pair of Beowolves that had gotten too close before the pilot flicked a switch, dumping Dust directly into the jets that kept the tank aloft. The effect was like an afterburner, and white-hot flame flared out twenty feet from each exhaust port on the tank.

The same Beowolves that had been circling the steel beast – and their prey that it piloted it – were suddenly bathed in a sea of fire, yeowling even as their bodies turned to ash where they stood. The torrent stopped almost as soon as it begun, and where the Grimm once stood were mere smudges of soot lost amid the circle of black around the tank.

The pilot barely spared her kills a glance before she looked to her allies, zooming in on their position. The situation was turning dire – while less Grimm were venturing from the forest, it seemed that the pack leaders had come out to play. An Elder Beowolf, Grand Boarbatusk, and Ursa Major had ventured onto the battlefield, choosing to strike only when the team of four was focused on their packs. It was disconcerting to see such species, each highly territorial and liable to attack one another at the slightest provocation, working together to exterminate them.

And they were winning. The Grand Boarbatusk waited until the red-haired warrior was distracted, and then it dove into a rolling charge that churned the earth and crashed into her with the force of a freight train. The warrior flew through the air and slammed into a weapon tower, out cold.

With the team's best fighter out of commission, it seemed that it was time to intervene.

-O-O-O-

PRESENT

"_Now!"_ Jaune shouted.

The smoke was too thick for Connie to see through, even with Grendel's sensors. It was a mix of metal particulate, Dust fragments and good old fashioned soot, all three of which played hell with electronics and scrambled them faster than an egg. Connie had no idea what to expect once she and the ragtag group of Hunter trainees got down in there. The leader seemed to know this too, giving surprising insight despite his apparent stupidity. The best way to get in there and keep people from being killed, he proposed, was to drop in and end the battle before it started. As any SDC facility had inhumanly strict security protocols, it was safe to say that if there was sabotage it would only have been carried out by a small group, most likely less than four or five. It would have been a better idea to send in a scout or a drone, but after Connie pointed out that communications going out or going in would have been made impossible by the smog, Jaune had to change up his strategy. Admittedly, it wasn't much of a strategy, but it was tried and tested.

The official name of the strategy, as least coined by analysts back in Mantle, was 'shock and awe.' In reality, it was 'drop in while screaming.'

Jaune was screaming enough for all of them as they flew through the smoke and down into the pit, nearly sent flying himself as he clung to the brush guard on the back of the turret. Connie rammed the throttle open as she pulled back on her control stick, urging Grendel to tilt up as the tank hurtled through the air. If she could expose all of Grendel's thrusters, the landing would be much safer. That plan was ruined with a violent shudder – the stern bounced off something, a building most likely and pitched the nose down, making Connie's insides clench when the smoke abruptly cleared and she was able to see the ground coming in too fast. The realization that they were about to crash land made time seem to stop, and with the throttle as wide as it could go, there was absolutely nothing more Connie could do to prevent the impending disaster.

All she could do was hold on and hope that her charges saw the threat in time.

A second later, the whine of Grendel's turbines became a ragged scream as her nose plowed into a rough mix of gravel and hard-packed dirt. Blue fire erupted from her side ports as both Connie and Grendel's onboard computers struggled to keep the tank from pitching over on her top and crush Team JNPR. Grendel slid further and further, propelled by momentum and her own jets, and Connie could do nothing more than clench her teeth as an excavator loomed closer and closer. The entire world seemed to shudder when the two machines collided, and while the nose came to an abrupt stop, Grendel's stern continued traveling forward.

The tank was flipping over.

Connie didn't know what happened next, and later when she would think back on it, she still wouldn't know exactly what happened. Grendel gave an almighty shudder, poised with her stern sticking straight up in the air. In all other circumstances, she should've pitched forward. And yet, some unseen force held the tank there and pushed the stern back down, letting the tank catch itself on its jets and settle back on the ground, ripping the nose from the dirt.

Unnoticed by all, Pyrrha lowered her hand as the black aura of her Semblance faded out.

Somehow, some way, disaster had been averted. Connie let out a shuddering breath and typed out a command with shaky fingers.

"_Damage detected. Structural integrity intact. Fuel lines intact. Reactor online. Weapons online. Sensors online. Warning – forward Dust jets non-functional. Thrust vectoring offline in thrusters one, two, fifteen, sixteen. Projected performance loss of ten percent."_

"Sorry girl," Connie muttered as she patted the dashboard, "we'll get you fixed up."

She looked to the forward monitor, and was unsurprised to see that Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora up and ready beyond the toppled wreck of the excavator. They had leapt off the tank as soon as it bucked against the building, landing perfectly on the digging machine with weapons out and prepared for battle. With the toppled excavator blocking Grendel's cameras, it was impossible to see just what the team of Hunters was ready to fight against. Connie manipulated the controls – cursing slightly as Grendel was now steering from the back instead of spinning in place – and maneuvered around the machine, only to be frozen in place at what she saw on her viewscreens.

There was a group of twenty men before them, brandishing improvised shovels and pickaxes. They were miners, covered in black smudges, and judging by how the lot growled them they seemed all too eager to attack.

It was then that Connie saw what had Team JNPR ready to fight. Jaune had been hurled from the tank during the crash, and was now sprawled unconscious only feet away from the miners. What was more, three bodies lay broken behind the group, dressed in White Fang uniforms but unmoving and bleeding from multiple gashes and punctures made from a pickaxe.

In any case the miners were hostile and ready to kill again. And their closest target was Jaune.

Connie swung her turret at the men and shouted through her loudspeakers, _"Stand down, now!"_

One of the miners, a large man wearing coveralls, pointed his massive hammer at them and snarled, "You damn White Fang thugs! You think just because you took out the generator you can jerk us around?! Back the fuck off or you'll end up just like those three traitors!"

He pointed his thumb at the dead White Fang rebels.

Pyrrha could barely restrain herself as the group inched closer to Jaune. "You foolish man!" she shouted angrily. "Do you honestly think that we're White Fang?"

"Yeah! We're from Beacon you… you sloth!" Nora added.

Ren stayed silent, his body coiled and ready to strike.

The miner snarled and rested his hammer on his shoulder as he meandered closer to Jaune, who was still out cold. He was defiant as he threatened, "Tell you what? How about you lot leave, and I won't bash this kid's head in!"

"You wouldn't _dare!"_ Pyrrha shouted.

Silence reigned over the group, tensions high and ready to snap at any moment.

Connie let out a breath, and once again flicked on her loudspeakers.

"_I assume that you work here. We were in the middle of a training exercise when we saw the smoke. We're here to help," _she emphasized. _"However, you are _not_ in a position to negotiate. You have an eighty millimeter Dust cannon aimed at you, and you can be sure that magnetized Dust travels much faster than your hammer. Stand down."_

The miner scowled, glaring from Jaune and back to the group of Hunters before he finally threw his tool down. Behind him, his fellow miners were just as unwilling to lay down their arms but did so anyway, following the first's example. Jaune's eyes snapped open, awakened by Grendel's dull drone and the rocks that had made their way into his underwear. His dazed mind was lost for a moment longer before he saw the miner snarling down at him, and immediately yelped and crab-walked to his team as fast as he could. As soon as he was close enough, Pyrrha leapt to the ground with spear pointed at the ground and her shield between her and the brute, sending a message that she would fight if she had to.

The miner let out one last growl and heated glare at the tank before he shouted to his workmates, "C'mon, back to work! Get those fires out and get that fucking generator back online before any more crazy shit happens!"

As the man turned away, Team JNPR let out a collective sigh.

"That could have gone badly," Ren pointed out.

"He's a big jerkface! He almost pasted Jauney!" Nora cried.

One could hear the malice in Pyrrha's voice as she glared at the back of the miner's head. "Yes. He almost did," she growled, trembling as she restrained herself from attacking the man herself.

Jaune scrambled to his feet, patting himself down for injuries before he let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank you, Dust. I'm not dead."

As his team checked that the blond was alright, Connie was frozen stiff in her seat. That miner reminded her _way_ too much of Falcone – she was thankful that she was safe and sound in her steel shell, otherwise she might have just cowed in front of the man. With a pat against the side of the cockpit and a, "Thank you, baby," she scanned the rest of the strip mine, idly running diagnostics as she did so.

A squat, prefab office building was nearest to her at the northern end of the pit… not surprisingly, the same one that she hit on the way to her crash landing. Needless to say, a good chunk had been torn out of the roof. More buildings clung to the wall of the pit – there was a warehouse at her right and another prefab building to her left, possibly where the miners bunked, and right next to it was a small, fenced-in utility shed that had smoke billowing out the open door, where most of the miners where gathered and trying to fight the flames with their jackets and buckets. Each of the buildings were covered with lines of scorch marks where the wires in the walls simply exploded from the power surge – even now, half of the office building was completely consumed by flame, well on its way to a complete inferno as it filled the pit with acrid smoke. However, the one thing that drew the most attention were the giant steel doors embedded in the cliff wall, with the SDC logo emblazoned on it.

Sure, the Schnee's were serious about security… but making a mine into a fortress was a little unnecessary. However, even with all their security, the generator was a single failure point. Sabotage had been inevitable, really. A heavy air hung over the mine as the workers rushed to get the damage under control – their fear made progress slow, and the knowledge that they were afraid brought on even more dread of what was to come.

Connie popped the hatch and clambered out, leaving Grendel to settle on her landing struts as she approached Team JNPR. The four were looking around the pit worriedly – and to be honest, she was as well – though she bit down on the anxious feeling as she pulled her helmet off. Jaune saw her approach, and said expectantly, "So, what's the plan?"

Whatever else he had to say was cut off when Connie leveled a look of acute disbelief at him, complete with a quirked eyebrow.

"Wh-what I mean to say is," Jaune stammered, holding up his hand placatingly, "is uh, what do we do?"

Connie continued staring at him, not saying a word.

"What Jaune means to say," Pyrrha offered, "is what should we do now that we're here?"

Jaune lit up. "Y-yeah!" he exclaimed.

Shaking her head, Connie let out a sigh. "There wasn't an error when they were picking out team leaders, were there?" she asked, immediately drawing the ire of the red-headed amazon.

Pyrrha glared down at the girl, hostile and ready to pummel Connie into the dirt as she snapped, "Jaune led us safely through Initiation against a Deathstalker and a Nevermore! That speaks _volumes_ about his ability."

Connie shrugged dismissively. "Sure he did."

Stepping past Pyrrha, leaving her to grumble angrily, Connie ignored the equally heated looks she was getting from the other two members of the team as she stood before Jaune. He was nervous, looking to his team for support, though with their grades on the line they couldn't do too much to actually stop the fox girl.

"U-um…" Jaune stammered, not knowing what to do as Connie stared him down.

Finally, she rolled her eyes and asked, "What are your orders, Commander?"

Jaune gulped. "Um, excuse me?"

"What are your orders?" Connie repeated.

Still, Jaune drew a blank.

Eyes narrowing, Connie bit the inside of her cheek as she asked in forced civility, "Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"…Please do," Jaune said, paling, praying that he wouldn't end up with dozens of bullet holes perforating his sternum.

Connie let out a sigh. "A mine full of defenseless personnel has been compromised," she said flatly. "They're all scared shitless and attracting Grimm. The defenses are down. There is no power. And perhaps the only place that could protect them is locked up tight – SDC mines don't open for any anything other than what's needed to keep the company running, and miners are expendable. So, based on the current situation, what course of action should we take?" she said slowly, as if to a child. Any modicum of respect she had been feeling for Jaune was quickly dying, and though his teammates wanted to step in and help, they were also curious to what exactly they were supposed to do. Jaune looked like he was on the verge of panic, beginning to hyperventilate, but as he glanced around the pit and the miners that rushed back and forth as they struggled to get the chaos under control, a plan began to form in his mind.

His eyes took on a calculating gleam, and after a calming breath he said, "We… we need to help these guys. Are any of you good with Dust-powered tech?"

Connie nodded.

"Okay…" he breathed nervously. He hoped he wasn't making the wrong decision, triple-guessing himself, but managed to get his breathing under control before he haltingly said, "Okay. Connie, you need to go over there," he pointed to the utility shed, "and see if there's anything you can do. Pyrrha, Nora, you two need to patrol the pit and make sure that no Grimm gets in. Ren and I will help with the evacuation and put out some of these fires."

He took a breath. "Everybody good?"

As his team nodded – or in Nora's case, give an eerily happy smile – Jaune stammered out, "O-okay, uh… move out?"

Pyrrha gave an amused smile and took a cheering Nora along by the arm. Before they got too far away, Ren looked to Nora and said quietly, "Nora, behave please."

"Okay, Renny!" Nora said cheerfully, letting Pyrrha drag her away.

This left Ren and Jaune standing awkwardly as Connie stared at the two of them, her thoughts a mystery to all but herself. Jaune gulped, and was about to ask what was wrong when Connie spun on her heel and strode towards the utility shed, not sparing a single glance back.

Jaune stood there, frozen in stupefaction. "Uh… she doesn't like me, does she?" Jaune asked, mostly to himself, though hearing the opinion of the Mistralan male would have eased his mind.

"…No, she doesn't," Ren said quietly.

Scratch that. His opinion made him feel worse.

-O-O-O-

Connie was, once again, flummoxed by her group commander. One moment he could be acting as a true commander _should,_ putting civilians ahead of himself and his team and giving them roles that would complement their skills. Granted, wholesale destruction wasn't a skill one would normally be proud of, but that didn't really apply to Nora. But his sheer lack of physical ability was _appalling._ Holding on to a bucking tank? Subduing an armed threat with his bare hands? They taught Connie that back in her first year.

Shaking her head in exasperation, the fox girl made her way through the smoke that pervaded the pit, heading towards the shape of the shed. Several figures become more and more distinct until the smoke grew thin enough that she could see the head miner shouting orders to the five men that were trying to get the shed back under control, too fearful to go inside.

"What're you waiting for?!" the head miner screamed. "Get in there!"

Another man that was huddled near the door grimaced as he looked to a small handheld scanner, which was making a loud, angry clicking noise. "Boss, the radiation count is off the charts! We'll be fucking well-done before we get anywhere near it!"

The man growled in frustration. "Then put on the suits! It's not like we followed regulations for nothing!"

"Those suits are rated for a hundred seiverts! _Not over nine thousand!"_

As the man furiously scratched at his scalp, Connie slowly approached the group. "Excuse me, are you the foreman of the mine?" she asked, surprising herself with how steady her voice was.

The large man flinched and eyed her over his shoulder. "Well shit, looks like the kiddie corps are here," he snarled. The workers watched on with a mixture of anger of their own, and anticipation. Foreman Michaels was never known for his patience.

Her ears twitching irritably inside her helmet, Connie drudged up her memories of military etiquette and said firmly, "I've been assigned to assist in repairing the generator."

The foreman whirled on the girl, his face red and veins bulging. "What the fuck can _you_ do?! We've got enough shit to deal with without babysitting brats! So get your little group together and –"

He paused, thinking before he grinned maliciously. "Actually, you know what? Sure. You can help. You see this shed?" he asked, pointing behind him.

Connie nodded.

"Go in there and fix the generator," he said, his grin growing even wider. "You'll have to quick, there's enough radiation in there to cook an Ursa. Still want to help?"

Connie didn't say anything, instead staring at the open doorway. Even from here she could see the wavering mirage effect of the Dust radiation pouring out. To her helmet's sensors it was like a pure-white sun spot in a field of blue. As she stood there, her suit was streaming the data back into Grendel to be processed by her systems, analyzing just how lethal the saturation was. After a few long moments, a tinny, robotic voice said in Connie's ear, "_Lethal amounts of Dust radiation detected. Caution is advised."_

The foreman chuckled, taking Connie's silence as hesitation. "Now, unless you'd like to help _anyone else,_ get the fuck out of here and –"

"Very well. I will need some time to assess the damage," Connie said, striding towards the doorway.

Foreman Michaels had seen some pretty bad shit in his day. He'd lived through a fourteen day tunnel collapse. He'd seen one of his best friends utterly torn apart by a Creep. So, the sight of the girl barely half the height he was striding to what should have been certain death didn't bother him. That certainly wasn't the case with his employees – they sputtered as the girl strode confidently towards the door, and as she made to pass the one holding the Geiger counter, the man grabbed her arm and hissed into her ear, "Don't do it! That shit will fry you!"

Connie merely shrugged off the man and strode into the irradiated pre-fab shed, trusting the lining of her suit to keep her safe.

The interior was pure chaos. The ten-by-ten foot shed was nearly gutted by what had to have been a Dust-based bomb, most likely Shock that not only ripped into the shed and blasted apart a tool bench, but overloaded the generator itself. Seeing as the things were designed to contain a _nuclear explosion,_ it was obvious that the EMP effect of the bomb was what killed it. It squatted in the far corner of the shed, the cylindrical device reaching Connie's waist and its readout screen flashing an obnoxious red.

The generator was, in essence, a supercharged reactor. It merely contained a charge. After being fed Dust, high-powered electromagnets pulled the volatile energy source along circular tubes, eventually going fast enough that the magnetic pull and the kinetic energy turned it all into a high-yield 'slop.' Not quite a gas and not quite a liquid, the collective energy of the Dust increased nearly ten-fold when it was in this state. Of course, that state had to be maintained, otherwise the Dust would undergo atomic collapse and irradiate everything, as well as that Dust suddenly solidifying and subsequently wrecking the tubes it flowed along.

Which brought the situation full circle. The EMP effect of the White Fang's bomb scrambled the generator's systems, halting the current going through the magnets and practically imploding the thing.

Connie grimaced as she kneeled in front of the thing. Even without touching it she could tell that the generator's innards had melted to slag, with the outer shell superheated and giving off a dim glow. She _could_ have repaired it, but that also meant that there needed to be something to actually repair. A look at the readout displayed a mountain of system failures, all of them pointing to the fact that the generator was now little more than a massive paperweight. Albeit a paperweight that could render one infertile, but either way, the thing was a lost cause. Connie spun on her heel and sprinted out of the shed, getting back to the group of miners before her suit failed. Even now it was feeling a little hot.

The foreman sneered as Connie ran up to them, casting a glance back over her shoulder. "So, how'd it go?" he asked cheerfully.

Glaring at the man through her helmet – and still making him flinch with her helmet's red-eyed stare – Connie pressed a button on her wrist that sent steam pouring through tiny vents along her arms, legs, helmet and torso, making the miners curse as their Geiger counter screamed at them. Once the radioactive vapor faded away, Connie sighed and said, "I was unable to fix the generator."

The foreman let out a short, mirthless guffaw. "Of course not! What'd a brat think they'd be able to do?"

Connie bit back her retort._ It's a little hard to fix slag, you baboon._

He waved her off. "Go back to your tin can, you're not needed here," he gloated, his sneer twisting his bearded face.

Despite wanting nothing more than to ram her M54 down his throat, she was all too glad to be rid of the man. However, by the time she had stormed back to her tank a low _crump_ echoed in the distance, followed by the dull explosion of a grenade. Cursing under her breath, Connie leapt back into the cockpit and pulled out her keyboard, fingers flying as she brought up her tank's radar systems, only to freeze in place as she realized what they read. Her shock, fear, and anger culminated in a single word.

"Shit."

-O-O-O-

"Man, I knew I shouldn't have opened my big, stupid mouth," Jaune griped, frantically combing through his umpteenth filing cabinet for any sort of document that looked boring, dull, or otherwise important. It began after he'd approached a pair of bickering miners who were about to venture into the half-burned office building, asking if he could help in the evacuation. Their response was disturbing, the first reason being that there wasn't any evacuation, and the second that, since they were such willing volunteers, they were to go into a burning building, find any document that looked relatively important, pack them up, and bring it all to them.

Outside.

Safe from the fire.

Jaune truly hated himself sometimes.

Groaning, Jaune unceremoniously dumped an armful of paper into an awaiting cardboard box. The room was, thankfully, isolated from where the fire was slowly but steadily consuming the building. It was an archives room that must have been a separate building at one point, but was conjoined into the main hall when the mine had begun to expand. Jaune could hear the muffled crackling of the fire – true, it was half a building away, _but it was only half a building away._ Fear, common sense, and the imagined voices of his mother and sisters _screamed_ at him to get his scrawny butt out of there. Luckily the two miners must have been at it before Jaune and Ren came along as most of the filing cabinets lining the walls in the small room were already open, abandoned in a state of disarray.

Panting as he kicked the cabinet shut, Jaune looked across the room to where Ren was struggling with a box of his own. "Hey, is that all of it over there?"

Ren grunted, hefting his box and nearly sending himself to the floor for his efforts. "That's it for this side," he said, nonchalant despite his struggles.

"Good, let's get out of here!" Jaune cried, forcing the cardboard lid into place before trying to lift it… and utterly failing. "Damn it! Ren, a little help?!"

Jaune looked up to see his teammate sprint out the archives room, heading straight for the door. "Lift with your knees!" he called over his shoulder, and just like that Ren was gone, leaving for the safety of outside.

For a long moment, Jaune could do nothing but stare at the doorway. "Did… Ren just… _abandon_ me?" Jaune asked himself pathetically.

As if to answer him, there was a loud bang as the fire began to heat a metal door, forcing it to flex and bow. The noise made Jaune yelp and throw his back into lifting the box, arms and legs straining, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as the thing slowly lifted an inch above the floor. Unable to lift it higher, Jaune let out strained squeaks and grunts as he crab-walked out of the archives. The heat from the fire just down the hall spurned him on as he threw himself out of the main doors and promptly caught his foot on the door jamb, falling in a particularly rough patch of gravel. Being draped over the box as he slid merely ensured that his face took the brunt of the assault. Now even more battered than from being launched from the tank, Jaune groaned as the pair of miners laughed at his misery while Ren, who had been standing a few feet away from them with the box at his feet, knelt down beside his leader.

"You okay, Jaune?" he asked.

Jaune let out another groan, muffled with his head buried in gravel_. "Swell."_

Frowning in concern, Ren reached out to help Jaune to his feet when he heard the distinctive _crump-thud_ of an explosion. A _very_ familiar explosion, one he'd heard for years now.

It was Nora's.

-O-O-O-

To Pyrrha Nikos, combat wasn't just a way to defeat the enemy. It was an art form – the battlefield was her canvas, her sword and shield her brush and paint. Bullet and blade became her technique and her very body was her easel, controlling every aspect of the fight. A battle merely meant that her opponent resisted being painted in the way that _she_ wished to.

Of course, Pyrrha's newest battle was merely keeping Nora from blowing up the forest. Then again who said that keeping Nora from doing what she wanted was easy?

"_Lemme go!_ I'm not gonna be long! Just let me find a wolfie to smash and I'll be right back! I promise!" Nora cried pitifully, lunging towards the forest. She strained against the arms wrapped around her waist, where Pyrrha was digging her heels into the ground in her attempt to keep the girl from going wild. She'd even resorted to holding herself in place with her Semblance, something she'd always reserved for emergencies only.

But _holy_ _balls_ was Nora strong!

Pyrrha gritted her teeth. "We're here to help, Nora!" she scolded. "Not to attract attention!"

"But if I smash, no uglies would even _want _to come here! Please!"

"No!"

"_Please!"_

"_No!_ If you don't stop this foolishness I'll tell Ren!"

At this, Nora immediately stopped struggling and stood ramrod straight. With the sudden lack of resistance Pyrrha was sent sprawling to the ground as Nora quietly walked away, her movements stiff and mechanical as she squeaked out, "Then let's patrol!"

With a roll of her eyes, Pyrrha let out a quiet chuckle as she got back to her feet. It had been like this ever since the start of their... 'patrol,' if it could even be called that. Following Jaune's orders the two had climbed to the rim of the mine and began their long trek around the perimeter, watching the tree line carefully for any movement even as they used their Aura to reach out to try to sense the dark, malevolent presence that Grimm possessed. Or, at least Pyrrha did when she wasn't too busy trying to get Nora to cooperate. Mentioning Ren was the only thing that Pyrrha could do to get the girl to calm down, probably because Ren always threatened to withhold pancakes as punishment.

It had only been twenty minutes since they had begun their patrol, and Pyrrha had already reined in the nigh-schizophrenically hyperactive girl four different times. Sooner or later, Nora would be too determined to stop. In the meantime, she continued her awkward, mechanical march, whistling a tune that Pyrrha recognized as a pre-Great War marching song.

How she even knew a song like that was anyone's guess.

Still, it helped Pyrrha focus on her surroundings. The song brought back memories of watching the Victory Day Parade with her father, whose own grandfather and her great-grandfather helped end the Great War. The feeling of duty steeled her thoughts, and she watched the surrounding forest with a calculating eye that, honestly, should only come once one became a veteran Hunter. It was this same focus that allowed her to see a rustling branch almost a hundred feet away, making her pause midstep to see if it was just a trick of the wind.

Nora sensed her friend stop and looked at her curiously. "Pyrrha? What's up?"

Pyrrha frowned as she turned toward the trees, head tilted as she tried to peer into the shadows. "I'm… not sure," she said warily.

There was nothing, not even a leave shifting in the breeze. It was quiet… too quiet.

Oblivious to Pyrrha concerns, Nora took a half-second long glance at the tree line before she shrugged and said cheerfully, "Whelp, there's nothing there now! Let's go! Onward! To Asgard!"

Snorting, Pyrrha watched as Nora marched ahead of her, her finger triumphantly poised to the path ahead. "Do you even know what Asgard is?" she asked in disbelief, struggling to contain her mirth.

This made Nora freeze. She turned around, smiling widely as she said, "Well, my dad was joking one time and said that it's where you guard your a-"

Pyrrha was spared from the horror of what her teammate was going to say next by a loud roar ripping from the forest, and she found herself with her sword and shield in hand without even realizing she drew her weapons. The roar was followed by a black mass of fury and angry, murderous muscle that barreled straight for them.

With a sigh, Pyrrha realized that it was just a Beowolf. She was relieved as she dropped into a crouch, Miló shifting into a rifle in her hands as she took aim at the creature's head. It was an easy shot, ridiculously easy. She could make it in her sleep. However, what she didn't count on was for Nora to let out an excited cackle as she fired a forty millimeter grenade at the beast. The Beowolf didn't even let out a yeowl of pain before its upper half of its body exploded into a fine black mist, leaving the legs to drop unceremoniously to the ground.

"YEAH! Bullseye!" Nora cheered, pumping a fist as she reveled in her victory.

Pyrrha closed her eyes. "One, two, three…" she counted, reining her anger in as the sound of the blast echoed for miles around. Sure, the shot she would have taken would have echoed as well, but not as much as an _explosion._ Once she reached ten, she let out a long breath and slowly got to her feet, careful to put her weapons away before she turned to the happily dancing girl.

"_Nora…"_ Pyrrha gritted out.

Nora was completely unashamed. "Yes, Pyrrha?"

The happy, innocent smile on the girl's face made Pyrrha falter, and she gave a heavy sigh. "That… was an exceptional shot, Nora," she finally let out, her resolve to scold Nora fading at the last moment. Even with her stupid amounts of strength and what amounted to an explosion on a stick, Nora's deadliest weapon was the ability to get away with practically anything with nothing but an innocent smile. Still, that _was_ a pretty good shot, especially with a grenade launcher.

Giggling and swinging her arms, Nora practically basked in Pyrrha's somewhat forced praise.

Her impromptu celebration was cut short when a loud, echoing howl drifted from the depths of the forest. It was quickly followed by another and another and_ another,_ until it seemed like the very trees trembled. The haunting sound struck a chord in the girls' souls that made them want to cower in fear – only their advanced training and familiarity with Beowolves saved them from doing so, instead gripping their weapons with determination.

"It seems that the enemy has found us," Pyrrha said distantly, staring at the tree line. "They must have been drawn to the fear coming from the miners."

Hopping from foot to foot and grinning widely, Nora hefted Magnhild with a gleam in her eye. "I get to _smash."_

"Of course, Nora. Smash away."

"Ooh! If there's an Ursa can I keep him?"


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Out of the Frying Pan

_So, it wasn't another three months! I know I should space it out a little, but I've left you guys hanging for way too long, so fuck it._

_Thanks for the good reception, guys. It means a lot._

_Also, I'd like your opinion. Due to circumstances that will not be made apparent at this time, Connie will begin to use another vehicle at some point. This isn't limited to Falcone's M11T1, an M16 Multiple Gun Motor Carriage (RWBY-verse name pending), and the cutest tank in the world, the Panzer II Luchs. However, I have yet to have decided on a final vehicle that Connie settles on for the rest of the story. _

_Now, I'm not asking you to go and look for an Assault Battlemech which, while cool, would not fit in with the story. I want it to be an upgrade from Connie's M7, but not so much that she's overpowered and certainly not as big as an Atlesian Paladin. Preferably less than half its height. The baseline that I'm looking for is something along the lines of a Landmate off Appleseed, or, if you play Overwatch, Dva's Meka unit. I'm looking for a more unique control scheme in a small package, you know? These are obviously my default if no other (better) ideas come up, but I'd love to hear your guys' opinions and thoughts on it. And reviews. Reviews are good too._

_Peace out._

_-RYNO_

_PS: Don't come to me asking about the new season. I haven't gotten a chance to watch it yet, so don't spoil it, please._

* * *

Connie was in shock, hands frozen from where they hovered above her keyboard. This was absolutely, indescribably _insane._ From the numbers she was looking at, there was literally _thousands_ of Grimm converging on the mine. Thankfully the majority of that was at least a day away; however, the closest bulk of the monsters still numbered in the hundreds, a mere half hour away if Grendel's systems were correct. She knew Grimm Theory – the nearest groups of Grimm would be attracted to the fear and panic, and the Grimm nearest to those groups would be spurned on by their bloodlust. Larger and larger waves would descend on them like a plague, and this was just from a sabotaged generator.

At this, Connie swatted her controls out of the way and launched herself out of the tank, panicked as she looked around the haze-filled mine.

"Commander! _Commander!"_ she called. Noticing a shape in the smoke, she sprinted towards it only to find that it was a miner rushing by with a box filled with papers. She grabbed him by the elbow and demanded, "Arc! Where's Arc?!"

The miner wrenched his arm away. "Don't touch me, Faunus!" he shouted, about to rush off once more. He was stopped when Connie drew her M54 and shot the ground by his foot, making him yelp and jump back in fear.

"_Where's the blond!?"_ she snarled.

The man's anger at her had instantly turned to terror, quavering as he nodded in a direction behind Connie's left shoulder. "H-He's helping pull out our records! In the archives room!"

She didn't spare him a second glance as she turned and sprinted through the smoke, heading towards the shadowed building. The right side of it was engulfed in flames, but through some miracle or fire suppression system the building had, it was making slow progress. The entrance was still standing, and though the fire was uncomfortably hot even through her suit, it hadn't progressed to the point that the building was a total loss. Yet, anyway.

Still, none of this dawned on Connie. She was focused on finding her commander as she neared the building, and just as she reached the entrance, a soot-stained head of blond sprinted through and collided with her. Papers flew everywhere, the box in his hands exploding as the two of them fell back through the entrance. Jaune didn't even have time to think about the slim girl on his chest before she hurriedly leapt off him and shouted desperately, "Commander, we have a situation!"

All Jaune could do was groan, having the wind knocked out of him in the collision. Connie was ready to haul him to his feet and beat the severity of the situation into his inexperienced skull when Ren came stumbling through the smoggy hall, only to stop at the sight of the two.

"Constance?" he said questioningly, coughing from the smoke.

Relief swept through Connie – at least _he_ would be able to understand. "It's an Emergence!" she shouted, her voice strained and frantic through her helmet's filters.

At this Ren froze, his thoughts shattered in an instant. His normally passive demeanor had morphed into that of horror, with widened eyes and a grey pallor to his skin. Swallowing thickly, Ren immediately dropped the box in his arms and gripped Connie by the arm – any protest or struggle she had was killed when he bored his gaze into hers, despite the impassive red lenses of her helmet.

"Are you sure?" he demanded, unintentionally shaking her arm.

Instead of answering, Connie pulled her scroll from the pack strapped to her belt, activating the tablet. While Ren didn't know why she pulled it out in the first place, any trace of confusion was gone when she showed him a map of the area surrounding the mine, going so far as to show the edge of the Beacon Plateau nearly twenty miles away. The sea of red dots, however, gave him pause.

"This is directly from my machine's sensors," she said.

Even as they looked at the screen, Ren could see the dots slowly converging on the mine. The sight brought him out of the daze he was in. "This isn't right," he said, frowning. "The amount of people here shouldn't be attracting that many Grimm."

A cough drew their attention down, and Jaune groaned as he slowly staggered to his feet. "Mind telling me the license plate of the bus that hit me?" he groaned, rubbing his aching head from being used as a cushion.

Jaune blearily looked to Ren, only to see him silently pointing at Connie. Somehow, though she was doing nothing, the red-eyed stare of her helmet was enough to send a trill of terror through Jaune. Blanching at his own mistake, Jaune waved his arms defensively and stammered, "N-not to say that you're a bus! You're just heavy!"

Ren's head fell into his palm.

"…Please don't kill me," Jaune squeaked, eyes squeezed shut as he awaited his fate.

Connie rolled her eyes. _Again,_ her commander demonstrated his infinite capacity for ineptitude and she'd only known him for all of six hours. Stifling a sigh, she shoved the scroll into his hands and said quickly, "There is a Grimm Emergence converging on the mine, Commander."

Like Ren, Jaune paled and looked like he'd just sucked on a lemon. He swallowed and held the scroll with trembling hands, before he said, "U-um… is this right?"

Ren nodded while Connie stared, wondering just how Jaune would react.

His heart had plunged straight to his stomach. What felt like a massive hand had begun squeezing his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Was this what being a team leader was about? Simply trying to keep from panicking? If it was he was failing, _hard._ Just how was he supposed to deal with this?

At this, Jaune paused. Was it even about him? What about the miners? What about his team?

Shaking his head, Jaune stammered, "I-I don't know what to do. But… but we have to go backup Nora and Pyrrha. They're by themselves out there and they won't be able to hold out for long."

As the two strode out the door, striding with a sense of purpose, Connie couldn't help but stare at her temporary blond Commander. Again, she was flummoxed. But… maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing. If nothing else, she would give him another chance to prove himself. He'd shown her the instincts for a leader, as weak as he was. She owed him that much at least.

"Commander," she said, getting Jaune's attention. She held out her hand, red-eyed visors staring him in the eye as she asked, "Your scroll, please."

-O-O-O-

Ferosteel was one of the most recent modern marvels that Carlisle Industries had released, alongside the SDC as a major contributor. By adding a special mix of Dust and tungsten to molten metal, one could delay the metal from hardening indefinitely, or at least until the tar-like fluid was no longer heated. It went on smooth and dried quickly, giving a machine that was one step away from the junkyard a new lease on life or repairing a break that would render a part otherwise useless. It was much like PRC, though it cured very differently than the super armor.

However, it did have its drawbacks. The mend, while sturdy, would never be as strong as the metal around it. It was meant to be a patch job until the part could be replaced, not a permanent solution. It was like slapping a bandage on an infection – it merely hid the underlying problem.

Deep within Grendel's core, her reactor had taken well to Felix's repair work. On top of the instant steel he'd welded a collar around the port where the break had begun, adding an additional layer of metal to prevent a catastrophic failure. Under normal operation – patrols, light fighting – this would be more than enough to last until the tank was retired. But despite all these precautions the reactor wasn't nearly as strong as it once was, and between the heavy use and slamming into the ground, one thing was clear.

Slowly but surely, the crack was widening.

-O-O-O-

Pyrrha ducked under a lunging Beowolf and hacked at its belly as it flew over, leaving it to its fate as she extended her spear, spun, and stabbed Milo underhand through the lower jaw of a Boarbatusk as it charged her. The skirmish had been quick – three more Beowolves and a pair of young Boarbatusk had sprinted out of the forest, blinded by their bloodlust. They had been cut down almost _too_ quickly between her and Nora, working side by side with a familiarity that surprised her. Whenever Pyrrha would attack, Nora was there to watch her blindside, and Pyrrha would be there to keep the excitable girl from going too crazy with her grenades. All in all, they worked well together.

"_Woo hoo! _YEAH!"

Except for that.

Resisting the urge to slap her forehead, Pyrrha watched in dumb stupefaction as Nora clung to the back of a Boarbatusk with a manic grin, hand in the air and laughing as the beast did its best to throw her off. She was treating one of humanity's deadliest foes like it was a _bull ride._ With a sigh, Pyrrha slid her shield onto her back and pulled a discreet lever under the head of Milo's spearhead, keeping her right hand out of the as her weapon shifted into its rifle form. She barely bothered to aim before she brought Milo to her shoulder and fired, drilling the boar through the eye and killing it instantly. Nora let out an indignant squawk as the beast toppled beneath her and threw her through the air, landing with an _'ooph!'_ on her backside at Pyrrha's feet.

"Aw!" Nora cried miserably, crawling on her hands and knees to the fallen Boarbatusk. "No! You broke him! Not Sir Porker! He will never know peace now! He was only a month away from retirement! _It was his birthday!"_

Shaking clenched fists at the sky, Nora shouted against the injustice in the world while Pyrrha stared on, mouth agape and eyes wide. Behind her, Jaune huffed his way over the edge of the mine, followed shortly by Ren. Ren was barely winded as he took one look at the scene before him and released a heavy sigh, closing his eyes in frustration.

"Hah… hah… hah…" Jaune panted, hands on his knees. "So… what happened?"

Ren cringed when Nora let out a shrill, "_Nooooo!"_

"I think," he said, "Sir Porker was just slain."

There they were – at the feet of a thirty foot tall tower of death, a smoking pit at their backs, surrounded by a forest teeming with death and hostility – and Nora was bawling her eyes out over a dead Boarbatusk. Somehow, that wasn't surprising. Ren massaged his forehead, and in a voice that barely carried over Nora's wailing said, "Nora… calm down."

"Okay, Ren!" Nora said, shooting to her feet and completely fine. Bright and chipper once more, Nora skipped to her childhood friend with absolutely none of the grief she'd just displayed.

"Hey Ren! Guess what I just did! _I rode a piggy!"_ she cried, clinging to his arm and not seeming to mind that Ren hadn't been able to answer her.

Jaune, mostly recovered, nudged Ren's elbow with a look of confusion. _"What was that?"_ he mouthed.

Ren shook his head. _"Just go with it."_

With a shake of her head, Pyrrha put the unbelievable scene out of her mind – if she hadn't just seen it she wouldn't have believed it herself – and looked to Jaune. "Jaune, what are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you were going to help with the evacuation?"

At that, Jaune stiffened. "W-well, about that, it's a little complicated…"

"Constance heard the explosions. She ran a scan of the surrounding area and told us that there's an Emergence heading this way," Ren said blandly. He didn't see the need to make the situation they found themselves in more complicated than it was with beating around the bush – thanks in part to his bluntness, Pyrrha's eyes were nearly bulging from their sockets as she stared at the two, hoping against hope that she'd gone deaf and hadn't heard them clearly.

"An Emergence?" she croaked in disbelief.

Ren nodded, his expression grim.

Jaune gave out a loud '_whew!' _and straightened, having recovered from his climb up a near vertical wall. Still, he was about ready to wet himself. He'd heard stories of the last Grimm Emergence from his father, passed down from his father's father from back during the Great War. It was during the Siege of Haven, the city occupied by the Southern Army in an attempt to waylay the Northern from getting their hands on the regenerative Dust mines. The Southerners' _Maus _battle tanks had been destroyed, which were the only things that had been holding back the opposing forces from invading the defensive walls. They were well on their way to a defeat when howls that chilled the blood echoed from the surrounding forests and canyons and made the enemy hesitate, giving the Southerners just enough time to close the inner gates to the city. A wave of rippling black laid waste to the Northerners, and scouts later reported that Grimm numbering in the _millions_ had utterly decimated the enemy forces. It had been the one event that turned the tide of the war, as the Northerners simply couldn't recover from the devastating losses in time to do more than defend and fall back.

Gulping, Jaune chuckled nervously and asked, "Um, it wouldn't be too late to run and live, right?"

"Jaune!" Pyrrha scolded.

"I thought not."

He paused in thought, and pulled a thumbstick from his pocket. "Oh yeah! Connie gave me this, she said it would help. We have to plug it into one of our team scrolls, though. And she said she'll catch up later, something about damage control."

Before any of them could stop him, Jaune thoughtlessly pulled out his scroll and plugged the memory stick in. Almost immediately the high-tech PDA let out an ear-splitting warble, making them wince and hold their hands to their ears – and in Jaune's case, drop the offending device – before they realized that _all _their scrolls were making the Dust-awful noise. Just as they were about to throw the renegade scrolls away from them, all four of them let out a happy jingle. Jaune frowned, passing a worried look to Pyrrha and Ren, only to receive blank, accusing stares.

'_You did this, you fix it,'_ they seemed to say.

Jaune huffed before he slowly reached for his abandoned scroll, nervously licking his lips as sweat trailed down his face. His trembling hand inched closer and closer to the waiting device…

"BOOM!"Nora shouted, an inch from Jaune's ear. He yelped and tripped, flopping to the ground. As the girl snorted and laughed, he flushed a red as brilliant as Pyrrha's hair as he shouted indignantly, "_Damn it_, Nora! That's the second time today!"

Chuckling, Pyrrha shook her head as she grabbed Jaune's scroll off the ground and slid it open.

"Pyrrha, _no!"_ Jaune shouted.

It gave a loud, sharp bleep, showing a blank screen with lines of code shooting along before it opened to a screen that was clearly not that of a school-issued scroll.

"_I see you used the data package. Good. This will make things easier."_

-O-O-O-

Connie dragged her fingers through her hair in frustration, having abandoned her helmet in her tank and leaving her ears free to lay back in agitation. She stood in the – mostly – intact foreman's office of the mine, though files had been ripped open and papers strewn about the room. Truthfully, they merely hid the filth. The place probably hadn't been cleaned in months, with a healthy layer of grimy dust on the windows helping to hide away the chaos outside. That wasn't even taking into account the faint crunching sound coming from the carpet as she walked… or the fact that she swore to Dust itself that the lump of dirt in the corner _moved._ Still, what took the cake was the fresh smear of blood in the middle of the room, which Connie avoided at all costs.

Ugh. She'd lived in a co-ed barracks with troops that smelled halfway between a bog and a manure farm, and _this_ disgusted her. Surely Foreman Michaels' sense of smell must have abandoned him years ago, as he was perfectly at ease as he lounged at his desk, leaning back in his chair with a careless ease.

"And why should I tell you _anything_ of our operations here?" he demanded belligerently. Still, now that the foreman was alone, he just seemed _tired. _Gone was his animosity… well, not quite, but his hostility was replaced with grudging acceptance. At least he wasn't holding his hammer any longer.

Connie stuffed down her growing ire, and said in a carefully level voice, "Foreman, your mine is about to come under attack by an _Emergence._ You need to tell me what you've dug and where so that _I_ know where not to blow up and collapse any tunnels.

After a long moment, the foreman sighed and leaned forward on his desk, rubbing his head in defeat… and in doing so, looked very much like a sleepy bear. "Look," he grumbled, "the SDC owns this mine, I just run topside operations. Keep the generators going –"

Connie snorted, which he pointedly ignored.

"- maintain the equipment, keep the conveyor system running at all times… they're pretty fucking anal when it comes to their Dust. I've got no fucking clue about what goes on in there, I just keep the goods flowing. The most mining me and my boys have done is when we found this offshoot at the surface, and it's nearly tapped dry."

He gave a tired chuckle, and reached into a drawer to pull out a bottle of a deep amber liquor. "I don't get paid enough for this shit… Dust, I've never even seen their damn workers! All that goes in are armored cargo containers, and armored cargo containers are all that come out."

Connie let out a slow breath, trying to calm herself before she realized what he said. Just as the foreman was about to pour himself a healthy shot of bourbon, she slammed her palm on the desk and made the bottle jump, sending the man scrambling to catch it.

"You mean there are still people in there?" she snarled.

The foreman glared back at her, taking a moment to knock back the shot. "How the fuck should I know?!" he growled, his boozy breath making Connie wheeze. "I'm just the fucking accountant!" In a fit of rage, the foreman turned to the wall of cabinets behind him and ripped open yet another drawer, pulling out a lockbox the size and shape of a briefcase and carelessly tossed it at Connie. Her eyes went wide with shock as she scrambled to catch it, only for it to slam into her chest and nearly knock her over from the weight of it.

"You want your answers, crack that fucking thing open!" he shouted. "A company man from the SDC comes with every shipment and puts their shipping invoices in there – names, dates, you want it, it'll be in there."

Connie was aghast. "Foreman, this is confidential information! You're just _giving _it to me?"

Foreman Michaels sighed, tiredly rubbing his forehead as he sank into his chair once more. "Look kid, I've got no love for the SDC. I was one of their biggest competitors, United Mining. I don't know how they did it but they fucking _sabotaged_ my operation a few years back. Killed half my crew in a cave-in and pinned me for gross negligence. I found out and they gave me this shit job to keep my mouth shut."

He leaned forward, staring her in the eye before pointing a thick, callused finger at the bloodstain behind her. "I caught one of them in here before the reactor blew, he was going through my files. I put _him_ through my pickaxe."

Connie grimaced.

"Point is," he continued, "whatever those animals were here for it wasn't just to blow up a generator. They were after something and my guess it's whatever is in that lockbox. From all they put into this little mess it can't be anything good for the SDC, and that's alright in my book."

With a frown, Connie asked, "If you wanted to screw the SDC, why not just let the White Fang take it?"

The Foreman took a vicious pull straight from the bottle. "I ain't never doin' the SDC any favors, you can take my word for it. But if any sumbitch thinks he can waltz in and fuck us over, he's got another think comin.'"

So, he wanted her to find out the Schnee Dust Company's dirty laundry? This just _screamed_ bad news… but, with a sigh and a mental note to get rid of the thing as soon as possible, Connie nodded. "Very well. In that case, I must return to my squad," she said dismissively, her tone flat.

With that she turned to get out of that percolating cesspool of an office, only to stop when the foreman called out, "Hey, what's an Armor pilot doing in a school like Beacon?"

Connie paused just as her hand touched the doorknob, the box clutched to her chest. With a wry chuckle to herself, she stepped through and replied, "When I find out I'll tell you."

As the office door shut behind her, she gazed out at the mine. The three bodies had been left to rest in the middle of the mine, though the miners made it a point to steer clear of the deceased. The fact that she could clearly see them was only due to the smoke clearing, thanks to someone filling the irradiated generator shed with a thick, gloopy foam that would eat the radiation and quell any fires – she could see the gunk pouring out the door across the way, steaming slightly. The people were moving with a rushed urgency, the twenty or so miners getting the damage under control working simply to keep the fear from consuming them. They mostly stayed near the foreman's office and the office building next to it, abandoning one half of the pit while they worked. As for the fire, the twenty feet between the two buildings would hopefully keep the both of them from being consumed in flame, though even now it was impossible to get back into the offices with the fire growing too intense to venture back inside. The boxes full of papers and supplies they had been able to save were being gathered in a pile before the steel bulkheads to the mine, so that when the evac came they could pile everything in and get out as soon as possible.

Speaking of which…

Connie jogged to Grendel, who waited beside the toppled excavator at the abandoned side of the mine. She clambered into the cockpit, pausing to toss the unwanted file box down to the floorboards before she slipped her helmet back. She tapped her throat, activating the throat mic before adjusting a dial at her right elbow and tuned in to a specific frequency.

Just as she was about to start broadcasting, Grendel's system gave a loud, harsh bleep. _"Attention – four unregistered UOS systems detected. Expunge?"_ Grendel said in her flat monotone.

Connie grinned and swiveled her keyboard into place.

'Negative. Register and allow access.'

"_Registering… complete. Access granted. Connection established."_

Connie grinned as she watched a readout of Grendel's systems, positively filled with glee as her machine's processing capacity bumped up just a little more, in addition to the expanded radar range. She typed, punching in commands to connect them to the new network. Once she was connected, she only had to wait a few moments before one of the jailbroken scrolls was activated.

"I see you used the data package. Good. This will make things easier," she said with a grin.

"_Wh-what? Who is this?" _Pyrrha's voice asked.

"That data package pushed the latest version of the UOS onto your scrolls," Connie continued, ignoring Pyrrha. "You'll be able to say in contact with me at all times, and I'll be able to provide logistical support more effectively."

"_Wait, Connie?"_

Rolling her eyes, Connie bit back the urge to shout, 'of course it's me!' Instead, she let out a huff and said, "Yes, this is Connie. Now, we have to hurry, the first wave is going to be here in less than half an hour and –"

"_Did this thing wipe out our scrolls?!"_ Jaune wailed

A scream of despair crackled over the connection, making Connie wince and have the urge to rip off her helmet.

"_N-no, my homework! It was done! WHHHHYYY!?"_

"_It's the same with mine, whatever she did wiped out our data," _Ren said.

"_I thought that was impossible with the school scrolls," _Pyrrha replied.

"_Ooh, this is really _cool!_ Thanks, Connie!"_

"_Nora… what she did wiped out your homework. That you spent four hours last night doing."_

"_What?!"_

The entire time, Connie's brow began twitching in irritation, both at being ignored and the sheer lack of _urgency_ that the group had. Finally, she had enough.

"_Quiet!"_ she snapped, shutting up the lot of them. "The backups at Beacon are updated every three hours. _You can get your data back._ In the meantime, there's an Emergence coming down on us."

Pyrrha sighed. _"Agreed. We can discuss your lack of methods of communication after we live through this, and how you managed to completely wipe out our scrolls or why you even carry something like that in the first place," _she said accusingly.

By now, Jaune had recovered from his sobbing. _"Yeah, yeah we have to hurry. Um… is it possible to show us where the Grimm are coming from?"_

Connie didn't bother responding, instead pushing the data from her own radar to their scrolls.

"_Oh, cool! Wait… no, that's bad," _Jaune squeaked. "_That's very bad…"_

There was a long moment of silence as Jaune thought. _"Still, they're only coming from the north. If my team and I can keep the north under control, can you handle the stragglers and make sure we don't… you know… die horribly?"_

Again, her Commander surprised her with his level of thinking. Not many realized that tanks were strictly artillery pieces, not meant to be duking it out face to face with monsters.

"Affirmative, Commander. What about reinforcements?"

"_Uh… what reinforcements?"_

Connie's gut ran cold. "Yes Commander… reinforcements. Backup. Our way out of here."

What Jaune said next filled her with equal parts disgust and righteous fury.

"_Oh yeah, that's a great idea! Um… Pyrrha, do you… uh… know anyone we can call?"_

Before Pyrrha could answer, Connie said in a low, dangerous tone, "Jaune Arc… were you never trained on how to contact the Vale Army?"

"…_No?"_

"The VDF?"

"_Uh-uh."_

Connie's eye twitched. "Pyrrha?"

"_No, I wasn't. My studies in Sanctum focused on combat and general knowledge of Grimm."_

For a long moment, Connie did nothing but sit there motionless. However, internally, she was _floored._ Disgusted, she abruptly cut off the connection to her squad and slammed a palm down on the radio controls, broadcasting the frequency that she'd set up before. "Grendel to VDF Base," she spat. "Expected mob at SRD-04. ETA is twenty minutes, threat level three."

There was a crackle of static.

"…_VDF Base reading. Requesting ident and daily confirmation,"_ a bored sounding voice said.

Foot tapping impatiently, she looked at a paper taped to the side of her cockpit and gritted out, "Ident is G-LBT-one-one-seven-nine, confirmation is 'Beauty and the Beast.'"

"_Acknowledged. Transferring you to Operator 443."_

The words made Connie want to bite her own tongue. You'd think that an imminent Emergence would get people moving… god, bureaucracy _really_ had no place in a fighting force. Still, at the very least she would be connected to an Operator. They were likened to a more intelligent android – a highly-advanced computer housed in a humanoid frame, able to simulate human reactions, and more importantly, cut out the human middleman between Connie and the big red button made to kill her targets dead.

"_Operator 443 standing by, please state your name, ident, and request."_

The voice was so human that it was uncanny, but the lack of inflections and sheer directness was obvious. Still, the gynoid was more pleasant to hear than many of the people back in Ironwood. "Pilot Constance Carlisle, ident G-LBT-one-one-seven-nine. Callsign Grendel. Fire mission and extraction is requested at coordinates three-one point zero-two-four-eight, by one-two-seven point zero-zero-five-one."

A constant, rapid-fire clicking came through Connie's headset, far faster than what a human could type at.

"_Request acknowledged and granted. Two rapid transport Bullheads are being prepped, eta is thirty minutes. Fire support will be provided with two GAH-42BS units. Fire mission will commence once you are in the air. I repeat, eta thirty minutes."_

Connie frowned. Of course they'd have to survive at least ten minutes… but what about the miners?

"Operator, additional evac is inbound. What's its eta?"

More typing.

"_SDC Bullshark A-nine-zero-zero-two-F is inbound from the Forever Fall Mines, eta twenty-five minutes."_

Damn. So they'd be protecting friendlies… that made a complicated situation even worse. And that wasn't even counting in the mine itself. "Be advised, fire mission is a commercial facility with civilians."

"_Affirmative, will send additional evac for civilians."_

Connie sighed in frustration, her blood still boiling as she struggled not to snap at the Operator – getting angry would just confuse it's systems and make things more difficult. "Negative, company is disallowing extraction. Fire mission is danger close. Confirm?"

"_Confirmed. Your request is granted and inbound. Fire mission is danger close. Are there any additional requests?"_

"Negative."

"_Acknowledged. Good luck, Pilot Carlisle."_

With that, the radio crackled as the line went dead. Connie grumbled under her breath, wondering just how she had gotten herself into this situation.

Oh right. Because she'd listened to Ozpin. Her luck must _really_ hate her.

Finally, she opened the signal back up to Team JNPR. "Listen up," she snapped, before they had a chance to protest. "There are two attack Bullheads inbound. They are our extraction and will be here in half an hour. The Grimm will arrive in twenty minutes, and though the miners have their own transport coming we'll have to protect them for at least five."

"_But what about the patrol?"_ Pyrrha asked.

"As far as I'm concerned, you've all got A's and extra credit to last you the year. But we have to be ready before the Grimm get here and buy the miners some time. Commander, what are your orders?"

Jaune, who had been lost in thought, paused before saying, _"Uh, my team should set up in the north. Are there any places for you to get higher and have a better vantage point?"_

She'd already looked over the map of the area to find a spot herself – of course, she'd refrained from saying anything, hoping that Jaune would use his brain and think it through. Now that he had, her approval of him bumped up slightly as she said, "Yes. There's a large hill to the east of the mine, it should give a good vantage point to shoot down from."

"_Okay… go there?"_

"Affirmative!"

Connie adjusted a bank of switches at her right elbow as she strapped herself in and connected the air tube to her helmet, starting Grendel and getting the tank off the ground in little more than ten seconds. She pivoted her tank even as the cockpit shut, aiming right at the wall of the mine. This was something that Jaune noticed as well, who was looking down at her from the edge of the pit.

"_Hey Connie, how are you gonna get back up here? Don't you need, you know, some sort of cargo helicopter to lift you out of there, or something?"_

"Ordinarily, yes," Connie said snippily. "That would be true if Grendel had tracks. She doesn't."

Whatever Jaune may have said next was drowned out as she cranked up Grendel's turbines to the max, their obnoxious screeching filling the mine as the tank slid closer and closer to the wall. Just before she hit, Grendel let out a deafening whoosh of air as her forward thrusters suddenly thrust the nose into the air, letting the tank begin to push itself up the wall of the mine. Gouts of flame burst from her ports as the tank angled higher and higher until she was parallel to the wall and pointed nearly vertically in the air, only held in place by her screaming stern thrusters, now belching out five foot long trails of blue hellfire.

"_Um… guys…? We should probably get back…" _Jaune muttered.

Unperturbed by the rattling and shaking in the cockpit, Connie began to hum as she eased Grendel forward… or rather, _up,_ letting the stern thrusters do their work of holding her tank's weight and propel the entire machine up the thirty foot tall wall of the mine. The screeching intensified_, _louder than a banshee and even making a few windows crack, much to a cursing foreman's consternation, and progress was slow but steady. It was when Grendel was halfway up the cliff when Connie realized that she was starting to slide.

She scowled – without her forward thrusters, it would be too difficult to try to get the tank under control and more than likely would just send Grendel plummeting back to the bottom.

So she didn't. Grendel began to tilt to the right, slowing her progress up the wall. Connie put more power to Grendel's starboard thrusters to compensate for her bad heading before it got too out of hand. However, with more thrusters brought to bear Grendel began climbing even faster, too fast to bring back under control. She could only watch on in cold horror as the lip of the mine rapidly approached.

"Oh shi –"

Connie held on tight as Grendel rocketed over the lip of the mine and flew through the air before she crashed back down on her belly, making the ground shudder before her thrusters lifted her once more. Teeth rattling from the impact, Connie blearily shook her head before looking to Team JNPR standing not even twenty feet away, staring in disbelief.

"_Hey, you okay in there?" _Jaune called out, voice doubled from coming through his scroll and being picked up by Grendel's aural sensors.

Shaking her head once more, Connie turned her tank towards the hill without answering, driven by an unrelenting urge to _get moving._ She did exactly that, the acceleration slamming her back in her seat as Grendel left behind a cloud of dust and contrails of blue fire, quickly reaching its top safe speed of ninety miles per hour.

"_C-Connie! Connie! Stop, are you okay?!" _Jaune yelled behind her, taking a few steps before he realized that Grendel was moving far too fast for him to catch up with.

"I'm _not_ okay, Arc. Not one bit," Connie snarled, only paying half attention to what she was saying as she manipulated the controls to keep from spinning out. "None of you have a _clue_ on modern Grimm warfare. All of your previous teachers really screwed up when it came to your education. I don't care if we're in a time of peace, every Huntsman and Huntress needs to know how to_ call for backup."_

"_Connie, where is this coming from?"_ Pyrrha asked.

Connie snorted, twitching her hand to the left to avoid a rock. "You're the Invincible Woman, Pyrrha Nikos. I've heard about you. Top of your class in Sanctum. So tell me, how do you explain away the fact that you don't know the channel to use to contact the local armed forces?"

"_W-well, I don't know how that's –"_

"No, you don't know how that's relevant because _no one taught you how important it is."_ Connie found herself seething, and she took a breath to calm herself. "Listen up you four. This is why we do practice runs, to iron out the rough edges. I'm going to be having a real long talk with Ozpin when we get back, but in the meantime you need to keep your heads down. I might not be a Huntress but I _am_ a soldier, and believe me when I say that we've gone from the fire to the shit."

-O-O-O-

Back in the Beacon Plateau, alarms sounded as the VDF facility scrambled to ready itself. A level three Emergence was nothing to joke about – every Grimm in a hundred mile radius would flock to the epicenter of the disaster, and it was important to strike at the heart of it before the situation got even more out of hand. Granted, this was only level three – with the scale going all the way to ten, a three was merely a threat to all nearby towns. A five would be a severe danger to a city. Seven, an entire continent. A ten was, thankfully, a purely hypothetical incident, a global extinction event the likes of which humanity had never seen. For a disturbing comparison, the Siege of Haven had been projected to only have been a level four.

Still, despite the relatively reduced danger, it was still an Emergence. The aircraft hangers creaked open, camouflaged to look like the rocky walls of the plateau, and a pair of high-speed Bullheads rocketed out on screaming jets of flame. They were much like the assault Bullheads with jagged armor, though their rocket pods had been replaced for one-off jet engines, disposable boosters capable of propelling the VTOL nearly double its rated speed.

The pair disappeared into the clouds within moments. Behind them, however, additional hatches opened along the rock wall. Within these hatches were small chambers cut off from the rest of the base, completely isolated and directed from the main control room. They didn't need to be large anyway.

Not for the nine, twenty-inch cannons now being aimed by satellite at SRD-04. They were carried through their hatches by rails and, mounted on rotating platforms, turned and angled their barrels to the sky, the mine well within their forty-five mile range to provide support in the way of two and a half thousand pound explosive shells, guided by satellite and thermal imaging, not unlike the disabled defense towers that surrounded the mine.

In truth, they were modernized versions of the cannons mounted on the Twin Queens, the VANV _Eternity _and _Temperance._ The shells were the exact same as over eighty years before… however, while the original cannons were hand loaded and could put out around two rounds per minute, these modernized versions were hooked up to an autoloader, making the cannons able to spit out almost twelve rounds per minute.

There was a reason why no Grimm had ever been able to pass the Beacon Plateau, also known as the Dragon's Teeth.

-O-O-O-

In the confusion of the sabotage, all the miners had time for was to drag the bodies of the White Fang where they'd be out of the way. They didn't bother to check if they were still alive. Not one of the workers had any love for Faunus, and all three were beaten and bludgeoned to death. Still, perhaps impossibly, the only one who still drew breath was the one who had been caught in the foreman's office and subsequently gored with a pickaxe.

However, he was not long for this world. His breath rattled in his chest and it took every fiber of his being to keep his eyes open. He knew he was dying. However, he had some small amount of satisfaction. He'd seen the soldier Faunus carrying the prize he himself had been after and drop it into her tank.

In his final moments, he prayed. He prayed that the girl would find what they themselves had known for years, but hadn't the evidence needed to bring the SDC to its knees. Hopefully, what the girl held in her hands would be enough.

Still, he smiled as he passed, knowing that at least a friendly face held the future of the Faunus in her hands.

-O-O-O-

The hill in question was just that – a squat knoll with a summit barely fifty feet above the ground. Still, it was mostly devoid of trees, with only a few brambles to block Connie's line of sight as Grendel approached the top of the hillock at high speed. An unfortunate briar hedge was flattened and burned as the tank ducked into a slide, bearing her starboard thrusters as Connie coaxed the machine into a bootleg turn that pivoted Grendel a full one hundred and eighty degrees back the way she came, now facing the mine a mere two seconds after she reached the top of the hill.

Connie flicked a switch that extended Grendel's landing legs, as she cut the power to her thrusters. With the extra power being diverted to sensors, she reached for her throat microphone and said, "Commander, I've reached the hill. Awaiting orders."

Instead of an answer, a rush of static and a loud bang ripped through the connection, blasting Connie's ear drums into oblivion. As she yelped and clutched her head in agony she could hear Ren faintly yell, _"Nora! You didn't hear a Nightmare Maw! Stop shooting the trees!"_

"_But I did hear one, Renny! They crawl in your ears and make you think bad thoughts!"_

Another _thunk-BOOOM!_ of Nora's grenade launcher made Connie want to reach through her own headset and swat the girl's head.

"_Nora, they turn invisible! And they're only native to Mistral!"_

"…_yeah," _Jaune voice said, just as disbelieving as Connie was. _"This is Jaune, leave a message after the beep…"_

"_Beep."_

Connie's gut twisted, both in irritation and panic as she said tersely, "Commander, _what are your orders?"_

If she had to be perfectly honest, she had absolutely no idea what to do now. She'd prepared as best she could, but beyond that, was there even anything else she _could _do?

"_Okay, okay, uh… is there any way for you to detect the Grimm early?"_

Connie glanced at her sensor readouts. "Affirmative. There's nothing on my long-range scanners yet."

"_Mind if you keep an eye on that? Also, if you can, try to keep them from overwhelming us…"_ Jaune trailed off, and gave a tense, panicked chuckle._ "Oh Dust, there's an Emergence coming!"_

Though she desperately, desperately wanted to panic just like Jaune was doing, Connie forced the tremble from her voice as she chided, "Commander, calm yourself. In a real combat situation, behavior like this will diminish the morale of your troops and make it much more likely for the mission to fail."

"_But this is a real combat situation! We're gonna _die!"

"And that is exactly what _my_ job is, to prevent your death."

-O-O-O-

Jaune stared at his scroll, mouth hanging open slightly. Her job was to prevent _his_ death? What did she mean by that? At his silence, Connie continued relentlessly, _"Jaune Arc, this is what it means to be a Commander. You send your troops into the fray and hope as many as possible make it back, with the knowledge that your decision may prevent them from doing so. Your decisions carry the weight of their lives. That is your responsibility as a team leader, and possibly a commander of even more people."_

There was a grunt as the Faunus girl shifted in her seat_. "And my responsibility is to make sure you keep breathing and making those decisions. I will trade my life for you or any of your team if the situation calls for it."_

Jaune recalled Blake's words from two weeks ago. _"'Hostile environment?' That's a kind term for a place that turns Faunus into suicidal meatshields."_

Was this what she meant?

"_Movement!"_ he heard Connie's voice call out. _"You called it; closest contact is five minutes from your position, directly north. You're right in the way of the mine, sir."_

Panic gripped Jaune's heart, making it hard to breathe. A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his rising terror, and Jaune looked to see Pyrrha giving him an encouraging smile. "It's just an Emergence, Jaune," she said, with confidence that she didn't feel. "We'll get through this."

A flash of trying to wield his sword flashed through Jaune's mind. It was a week before he'd 'left' for Beacon, having yet again swiped his great-grandfather's sword off the mantelpiece while his parents were out and they'd thought he was studying. Well, technically he was studying he'd reasoned with himself. Knowing that his mother would never let him take part in any sort of dangerous activity – she'd barely allowed him to use the kitchen knives to even cook with, after all – Jaune had thought that, if he could impress them with his skill, they'd allow him aboard the Beacon airship. Surely his father, a well-known Huntsman himself, would be able to convince his overbearing mother to attend, right?

So he'd thought he would get some last minute practice in. He was even swinging the thing without getting immediately winded! And then he'd lost his grip, sending Crocea Mors flying at the garage, through the wall, and into the side of his father's priceless Colt GT500, having never had a dent or scratch ever since Grandad had gotten it straight off the factory line.

Needless to say, Jaune had left that very afternoon… albeit after leaving a short, scrawled note explaining where he was going. His mother would move heaven and earth for any one of her children, especially if one had gone missing without warning… and most likely with, as well.

He neglected to mention the car.

Jaune chuckled nervously, the memory playing at the forefront of his mind. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

God, he was such a loser.

His sudden melancholy was sensed by Nora, and she leapt on his back with her legs wrapped around his waist and arms in an iron chokehold around his neck. As he gasped and spluttered for air, scrambling to stay upright, Nora let out a wild cackle and shouted, "And so the queen mounts her valiant steed! We ride for honor! For glory! For- _whoa!"_

Jaune lost his battle with gravity – and Nora's surprising weight – and toppled to the ground, landing face-first in a mole hill while Nora sat on his back with a wide, unashamed grin on her face.

"My back…" Jaune groaned.

Ren chuckled, shaking his head as his Storm Flowers shot from the concealed holsters in his sleeves. "I think you may have broken him, Nora."

Nora laughed at this and hauled Jaune to his feet, ignoring his spluttering and spitting of dirt as she patted him on the back. "Jauney's fine, look!"

Of course, a pat from Nora was like a backhand from an Ursa. Jaune was instantly bowled over and off his feet, landing once more in the mole hill. With his back arched and knees bent, he was balanced perfectly on his face. Nora stared at her unfortunate leader for a long moment before she spread her arms and cheered, "Ta da!"

Jaune's legs flopped to the ground. _"Ouch…"_ he groaned.

"_Is this how your team always acts in a combat situation?" _Connie asked, her voice muffled from the scroll where it lay face down on the ground. She'd watched silently through Grendel's cameras, and from a professional standpoint, she wasn't impressed. But, if she had to be honest… they looked like they enjoyed having their fun. Even if it was at their leader's expense. Unfortunately, her distraction was only broken by Pyrrha, and she cursed herself for not keeping a closer eye on her sensors.

"Get ready!" Pyrrha shouted, drawing Miló and Akoúo. She'd been watching with a slight smirk, happy that her team was already beginning to show the camaraderie between all of them, but a rustle not unlike the one she'd heard before she and Nora were attacked had come from the trees directly ahead of them. And to the left. And the right. Feeling out with her Aura, her eyes narrowed as she realized that the creatures of darkness had them mostly surrounded, backs to the pit. Of course, that worked in their favor – the Grimm were always attracted to the strongest sources of Aura first, the need to eliminate the strongest threats too great for them to simply begin massacring helpless civilians.

Her shout immediately sent Ren and Nora into action, rushing to stand with the warrior with their weapons at the ready.

"Jauney, c'mon! The fun's about to start!" Nora hollered over her shoulder, spinning Magnhild with a deftness that only she could have with the massive weapon.

"Fun. Right," Jaune muttered, staggering to his feet as he drew Crocea Mors. Huffing, he took his place next to Pyrrha, spitting one last glob of dirt before he said, "Right, we have to hold them off for at least five minutes until those SDC Bullheads get here, then we can run until ours come pick us up. Nora, hang back and keep them from swarming. Use as many grenades as you want."

"_Thank you, Jauney!"_ Nora cheered, already envisioning her weapon filling the air with its thunderous cacophony.

"Jaune, do you realize what you've done?" Ren asked, eyebrow raised.

Jaune nodded. "Yep, we need Nora at her worst. And I need you to be point man. You need to thin them out before they get to me and Pyrrha. And _be conservative_ with your Aura strikes, I don't know if those Bullheads will be on time."

Ren nodded.

With one last breath to calm himself, he looked to Pyrrha, who was looking at him appraisingly. "Okay, you and me are going to be up front. Go all out."

At this, Pyrrha deftly shifted Miló into its sword form, standing with her shield out and blade ready to gut the nearest Grimm. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she said with a smile.

-O-O-O-

Honor. Fame. Glory. Incalculable amounts of sponsorship offers. Those were just a few of the things that were offered to Pyrrha during her rise to a celebrity. In truth, she hated it. She hated the attention, the soul-sucking media, and that when being famous also meant you had to forgo normal, healthy relationships.

In truth, it all started as a hobby. She'd always been less than stellar in her studies, and with her parents rich and demanding nothing but the best from her she'd quickly grown frustrated with her C- average and general lack of ability. She needed some way to get the anger out of her. Combat training, while unorthodox, worked beautifully, and while Master Zangan was quite miffed at replacing training dummies so quickly, he was proud of her ability to use both a shield and a spear, weapons notorious for needing good coordination to use effectively, not to mention that a spear was meant to be a two-handed weapon. They'd shared many evenings together, sitting in his worn-down dojo drinking tea. As her strength grew, so did her confidence. As her confidence grew, so did her grades and people's perception of her. The real turning point was two years into her training, when she'd singlehandedly stopped a mugger from assaulting a young woman.

The media, already driven into a frenzy by the increasing White Fang attacks and the disappearance of a town to the east of Vale, descended on her like vultures. They'd called her, a ten year old girl, a hero. Someone that everyone should aspire to be. The questions and demands and endless _questions_ nearly drove her mad, but the sudden media spotlight was good for her parent's ailing company, so she was forced to grit her teeth and bear it. And with her growing prestige, so did her parent's opinion of what they thought was proper for her. Zangan was forced away, replaced with stuffy, unrelenting instructors. Her beloved spear and shield were replaced with Miló and Akoúo, and while she loved them as well, they were still forced upon her. Yet another thing that set her apart from what her parents called 'commoners.' Those evenings in the worn dojo were replaced with blood and pained hisses in the shower as she cleaned herself from another grueling day. Her grades, which had been recovering, were forced on the wayside as combat became her life. In truth, the short month she'd spent at Beacon was the most education she'd received in years.

The fame and status was fun for a time, as were the rewards… but she always regretted not staying to who she was and for losing her old master. All to please her parents, who now reveled in a fat, wealthy clothing chain.

She was snapped out of her thoughts, with a pack of five Beowolves sprinting out of the forest. Pyrrha waited until they were nearly on her and then ducked under the flying lunge of one Beowolf, slashed the side of a second as it passed by, and finally slammed her shield against the skull of a third as it charged her, shattering both its mask of bone and skull into gravel little more than gravel. She spun on her heel and stabbed through the neck of the wailing second, severing its spine before extending her weapon into a javelin and hurling it through the back of the head of the first, destroying all three in the time it took to blink. Seeing Jaune's look of awe, Pyrrha suppressed a blush before she ripped her weapon free of the Beowolf corpse at her feet and dropped to a knee, triggering her weapon's rifle form, and was aiming down the sights and drilling high-caliber rounds into the skulls of the approaching horde.

-O-O-O-

He was always quiet. Growing up in a temple did that to someone. One learned to speak only when it was important, and contemplate when it wasn't. Ren, of the Lie clan, embraced the quiet solitude of his youth, learning the old ways of Mistral and its traditions and history. By the time that parents decided to leave for Vale and spread their teachings there, he was already more mature than many of the adults at the temple, let alone Vale itself.

Case in point: on his first day of second grade he was bullied for his 'abnormal' behavior. Well, they attempted to. Nora Valkyrie put a stop to that.

His gratitude towards her evaporated as soon as she had spoken, and he realized that she was the most immature person he had met in his entire life. She was brash, loud, violent, and foolish. Nora had moments of intelligence, but they were few and far between. At first he'd hated her, but shoved those feelings down with reminders of his teachings. He tolerated her for the sake of his parents, if nothing else. But then, over time, that hate died with the girl's sheer honesty. She was outspoken, lively, and with that came with the fact that the girl hid nothing. Her sincerity, after he realized what it was, was refreshing compared to the lying game that adults loved to play. Before he realized it, he had grown to like Nora Valkyrie. She was a force to be reckoned with, and not just from her bone-crushing Magnhild.

Somehow, along the way, he'd decided that he'd follow her. People always assumed it was he that led Nora around, keeping her out of trouble. No, it was the other way around – while he certainly tried to keep Nora under control, it was she that made the decisions. It was her decision to become a Huntress. It was her decision to create one of the most devastating weapons ever catalogued.

It truth, he was simply her self-appointed guardian.

Ren danced among the thickening lines of Grimm. It began with the five. And then there were twenty, then fifty. Before he even realized it, there were nearly a hundred Grimm sprinting at them and yeowling for blood. Of course, that didn't matter if they didn't know he was there. He flowed among the beasts like water, every movement precise and without flair – he used a combination of Mistralan martial arts and Atlesian CQC, melding the flowing movements of the former with the powerful, crushing strikes of the latter. His attacks flowed into movement and movement back into attacks, much like the pounding of the ocean on a shore. Or the lethal, coiled strikes of a viper.

As the mob grew thicker, Ren sprinted ahead to meet the beasts. He dodged to the side and dug his left-hand Storm into the eye of a young Ursa as it thundered by, killing it, before he sprang off the ground and flipped with a leg extended. As his heel struck the back of a Beowolf he let off a burst of Aura, turning the spine-shattering axe kick into a devastating force that vaporized its skull and liquefied the beast's innards, flattening it into its own crater. Ren carried his moment into a spin, letting himself fall into the path of a charging Boarbatusk, only for the oversized boar to be sent flying into another of its brethren. Finally letting himself hit the ground, Ren dropped into a roll and kicked off the face of a snarling Beowolf, firing StormFlower, harassing the horde with a steady, calm mind that made him nearly invisible to them.

-O-O-O-

Nora Valkyrie was well aware of the things that were said behind her back. What most people didn't realize was that she was smarter than she seemed, that the only reason she _could_ act the way she did was because of her ability to learn quickly. It was in Pre-K that this was discovered, having learned both the alphabet and how to count far sooner than the other children. It also set her apart from them, leaving her lonely and without friends. While adults would find her bubbly personality cute, to the other children it just made them hate her all the more, and children could be so much crueler than people realized. She went without friends for much of her early life.

And then in second grade, she met Ren. The new boy from Mistral was quiet, almost painfully so. She saved him from bullies, and instead of slinking away to wallow in being alone, she threw herself at him. She'd held nothing back, no worry or joke left unspoken. When it was time to choose her future path, she had instantly chosen to become a Huntress for that was the way her parents had gone. Even when no one from her classes joined her, it was Ren that followed soon after. When she'd constructed Magnhild, it was Ren that didn't criticize the simplicity of the weapon, instead commending her for it. He didn't scold her for her lack of Aura control, instead training with her to make it as good as it could possibly be. In Ren she'd found a lifelong companion, one that would stick with her through thick and thin.

Of course, one would have to look hard to find the hyperactive, distractible young woman called Nora Valkyrie at the moment, as she was laughing long and hard as she fired grenade after grenade at the Grimm horde. Chunks and fountains of black gore spewed wherever her grenades landed, keeping the mix of Beowolves, Ursa, and Boarbatusk funneled toward Jauney and Pyrrha. Flashes of blue projectiles helped as well, thinning out the numbers before they even reached the pair. Nora seriously had to ask Connie where to get one of those tanks.

A growl to her undefended right tore her from her thoughts; a single Beowolf managed to sneak through the maelstrom of her grenades, teammates, and Connie. While most Huntresses-in-training would panic and try to shift their weapon back into whatever melee form it had, Nora knew that it would take approximately one point fifty-six seconds for Magnhild to assume it's hammer form, time she didn't have with the Beowolf already pouncing at her. This was something she knew by instinct and her body moved automatically into a spin, bringing her grenade launcher around to strike the beast in the muzzle just as it reached her, bowling it over. _Now_ Nora shifted her weapon, letting the beast yeowl and clutch its shattered face before she swung Magnhild in a mighty, underhanded swing, punting the Beowolf high into the air, only to impale itself on a Major Ursa's shoulder spines on the way back down.

-O-O-O-

Stories of the Arc family were known throughout the world, tales of valor and courage dedicated to the ancient clan dating all the way to the mass migration from Mistral centuries before. So to say that Jaune Arc, only son to the Arc name, had pressure on his shoulders was an understatement. Each of the seven other Arc siblings had accomplished much in their own right – Rouge Arc, the eldest, was a well-decorated Vale Army Lieutenant and part-time Huntress, having diverted an Emergence outside Vacuo with just an airship and a platoon of troops; Evelyn, second eldest, was quickly becoming one of Remnant's premier lyricists and songwriters, though she couldn't hold a tune to save her life. While Diana and Leila weren't exactly famous, the adopted twins were well known in Patch for being world-class pranksters, and where one was the other would never be far behind; they'd be graduating combat school, soon. Viola Arc was the family's problem child, having taken to dark clothing and even darker make-up by the time she was twelve. Then again, she'd picked up her combat training with single-minded intensity and used it with cold-hearted vengeance on any who tried to hurt her family, despite her taciturn demeanor that would suggest that she wanted nothing to do with the Arc family.

And then there was Jaune. He'd been coddled and babied most of his life, both by his elder sisters and his mother. It was both endearing and pathetic, at least for himself. He loved them all to death, but he could see the writing on the wall when he'd left – unless he made a change himself, nothing ever would. Plus he wanted to look cool for little Millie.

His six year old little sister was one of the bright spots of his life. She was loud, stubborn, attention-hungry, playful, and quite possibly a WMD from her determination to find out people's secrets. With her smarts, she had more than enough of a chance to do anything she wanted, and Jaune wanted to be able to say that he had the courage to follow his dream without feeling like a complete liar.

He was certainly wishing that he was back home as he watched Pyrrha dance among the Grimm like a vengeful, pagan war goddess, slaughtering the beasts without the slightest bit of effort, the piles of corpses at her feet marking a line that simply couldn't be crossed. The sight of her fighting so effortlessly put more courage into Jaune's heart than he realized, and he wanted to do the same. Mollified that he had one of the strongest woman he'd ever known by his side, Jaune gritted his teeth and charged into battle, sprinting by Pyrrha and not hearing her panicked warnings. His stance was sloppy – his shield was too low, feet not wide enough, and he was brandishing Crocea Mors like it was a barbarian's club. Letting out a yell, Jaune reeled back his arm to swing at a charging Beowolf, only to take a full-speed Boarbatusk roll to his blindside. Jaune could scarcely let out a yelp before he was sent flying, and rolled to a stop at the base of a pile of dead Beowolves.

Panting and feeling the dull, ice-cold numbness that came from Aura depletion, Jaune looked to the scroll strapped to his wrist and watched the incoming lines of Grimm thickening considerably.

He glanced at the time. _Fifteen minutes in, five to go._

Jaune wearily looked at his team – Nora was doing well for herself, lobbing swarms of grenades about twenty feet back and to the right of him, and while she didn't have a pile of bodies she had a scattered mess of parts strewn about the battlefield. He could hardly see Ren, though he could certainly see the sprays of blood from his knives and bullets as the martial artist flowed through the Grimm. Through the ringing in his ears, he could see Pyrrha yelling as she sprinted towards him.

What she didn't see was the massive Boarbatusk that ripped out of the forest behind her, spinning like a massive wheel of death, its elongated spines churning the earth and any Grimm that failed to get out of the way in time. It steered itself right towards Pyrrha.

Time seemed to stop.

Jaune opened his mouth to warn her.

It was too late. The Grand Boarbatusk barreled right into the Amazon, and with a pained yell she was sent flying through the air before she slammed into a defense tower close to Jaune. He could only watch in horror as she fell to the ground with a boneless thud.

He stared at her, hoping against hope that she would leap to her feet and charge into battle once more. However, his prayers went unanswered.

She didn't get up.

-O-O-O-

It was the first time in a long time that Connie was using her tank in its original purpose – long-range artillery bombardment to soften the enemy. She'd been sent on scouting runs, participated in ambushes, shrugged off damage to shield her allies. Yet sitting on top of the hill, Grendel's thrusters inactive and pounding shot after shot into the ranks of Grimm as they approached Team JNPR, was somehow cathartic. The hill gave her a clear view of the entire mine as she lined up the barrel to an Ursa, leading ahead of it slightly before she pulled the trigger, making the tank rock softly on its suspension.

The munitions she was firing were essentially globs of highly-reactive Dust, shaped by magnetism to hold together long enough to reach the target. As it was a perfect sphere as it flew through the air, the shots were unable to punch into the target like a normal shell. A Dust cannon delivered its damage through sheer, explosive force, a concussive blast that simply blew off what it couldn't penetrate. The Ursa was no exception – the shot was led perfectly and impacted against the side of its mask, exploding in a brilliant blue plume of fire that vaporized its head and part of its shoulders, and sent the corpse flopping to the ground.

Connie put the kill out of her mind and focused on her next target, a massive Elder Beowolf that had bounded out of the forest. It's mighty howl of defiance was lost on her – with the Grimm stationary and howling at the sky, the shot was ridiculously easy as she centered in on the beast's chest.

_KOOOM!_

Even as Connie fired, the Beowolf seemed to sense the incoming danger and ducked, letting an Ursa behind it take the hit. It continued to duck and dodge as it weaved among the throngs of Grimm around it, letting them take the hits as Connie fired again and again. Her frustration grew each time the beast managed to stay just ahead of her shots, somehow avoiding right at the last moment. It was almost like it could anticipate her shots, like it knew where she was.

Connie froze.

The Elder seemed to sense her sudden panic and looked right where her tank sat among the brambles and _grinned,_ right before it turned tail and disappeared into the forest once more.

It certainly did know where she was.

An alarm blared as a pair of blips appeared on Grendel's radar, not even twenty feet away. _"Proximity alert!"_

"Shit!" Connie shouted. Before she could react, a pair of Beowolves leapt at her tank from either side. With the CIWS offline and the thrusters stone cold, Connie could do nothing but curse as the beasts leapt on top of Grendel and slashed at her metal hide, one mangling the thinner armor on top of the turret, while the second let out a toothy grin as it approached the cockpit hatch with its claws ready to tear it off.

Scowling, Connie pounded a button at her elbow. _"Get off my tank,"_ she growled.

It seemed that Grendel was just as displeased as her pilot was. The fat dome slid up from the turret, giving an angry bleep before it rounded on the Beowolf closing in on the cockpit. Unlike the last time Grendel was in the Emerald Forest, carefully spitting out a pair of shells at each target, there was no precision or careful aiming this time. The targeting AI deemed the situation necessary for extreme prejudice and before either Grimm could react, the dome spat out six eight-gauge shells at the target over half a second. Each shell carried fourteen pellets, heavy enough to break through the carapace of a young Deathstalker. At such close range, the thinly armored hide of a Beowolf never stood a chance.

The Beowolf's torso disintegrated, bisecting the beast in a spray of ichor with nary a howl of pain. As the lifeless halves fell, the AI calculated how to dispatch the second. With the Beowolf standing on the turret, the gimbaling barrels wouldn't be able to pan up far enough the take it out in one shot. So, it just had to bring the Beowolf down to its level. The CIWS blasted off the right foot, making the Grimm fall to its knee before it shot that off and most of its thigh as well. Missing an entire right leg, the Beowolf fell on its side amid howls of pain before it took a pair of shells in the chest, blowing the corpse off the tank entirely.

Connie let out a huff. _Serves me right for tunnel visioning,_ she grumbled to herself. The camera feed from the turret gave her a clear view of the mangling the Beowolf had done to Grendel – though it wasn't nearly as bad as before, there were still gouges in the metal that made Connie wince.

Still, the fact that Beowolf had been able to do this was disturbing. They were getting smart. _Too _smart. That the beast had been able to draw her attention as its pack snuck up on her attributed to that. It was true that older Grimm were smart enough to coordinate the attacks of their pack, but what had just happened was on the level of human intelligence. _That simply_ _didn't happen._

She shook herself. Now wasn't the time to be lost in thought. Her expression was grim under her helmet as she increased the throttle, thumbing the roll wheel at the top of her left control stick. She barely even noticed the second pair of Beowolves that lunged through the brush – with a dismissive wave of her hand, she flicked a switch to start a fuel dump, incinerating the Grimm where they stood. Inelegant, but not even napalm was that effective.

"_Jaune, no! Stop, they'll target you! JAUNE!"_

At Pyrrha's panicked scream coming over the radio, Connie's gaze frantically skimmed over her viewscreen. They'd thinned the numbers with their assault, but the Grimm just kept _coming. _Still, it was enough to spot the team making a stand at the northern end of the mine, and she zoomed in to see what was going on.

Jaune had been struck, lying feebly on the ground. Pyrrha spotted her partner and rushed to help, turning her back on the Grimm.

Connie's heart flew to her throat as she helplessly watched a Grand Boarbatusk slam into the girl and send her flying right into the side of a defense tower, where she lay unmoving.

"Children," she growled to herself, before she sighed in resignation. Of _course _the most experienced warrior would be the first to fall from an utterly rookie mistake. Still, if a Hunter died under her watch not only would it reflect badly on her, but it would also reflect badly on the school itself for finding an incompetent pilot. Plus there was that small bit of her that would feel like utter garbage for letting her die.

Connie steeled herself and rammed the throttle open. Dust-fire spewed from Grendel's stern jets as the tank rocketed forward, incinerating even more of the bramble as it flew down the hill and only caught itself once it reached the bottom, scraping the belly along the ground. It pulled free with a spray of sod and sped toward the river of Grimm that were beginning to overwhelm Team JNPR, with Jaune shaking Pyrrha to try to wake her up as Nora pelting the incoming beasts. A group of twenty Grimm was approaching fast, a mix of Beowolves and Boarbatusks, with the slower Ursai lumbering behind them.

The Grand Boarbatusk and Elder Beowolf had yet to make another appearance. Despite that, most of the Grimm were waiting among the trees, only sending a few groups at a time, though their numbers were steadily getting larger. Again this was unusual, as the creatures would normally be throwing themselves into battle with absolutely no concern to their own wellbeing. It had to be the presence of the older Grimm – this was a display of raw tactical ability, however rudimentary it may have been. Waiting until the main forces arrived was a simple but effective strategy to whittle down an opponent. And it showed, as Nora had finally lost her smile as she fought to keep the Grimm back. It was only her and her devastating grenades that were keeping them at bay, yet if she closed in to put her monstrous strength to work, Grimm would be able to get around her and into the mine. As it was, she was relying solely on Ren to delay them as he weaved among their ranks.

Despite their efforts, with most of their strength gone Team JNPR would quickly fall.

"_Children,"_ Connie growled again.

In the hundred feet between Team JNPR and the mob of incoming Grimm, Connie threw Grendel into a full slide that made the tank scream as it thundered into a scrambling Beowolf, tilted nearly ninety degrees, stunning both the students and the monsters for a brief, critical moment.

It wasn't wasted.

Connie fired even before Grendel had leveled out, nearly sending the tank out of control from the recoil. Gritting her rattling teeth, she watched as the shot blew out a deep crater just ahead of the pack that the Grimm had no time to avoid or jump over. With many of the Beowolves and Boarbatusk yeowling as they plummeted into the pit, Connie checked her stern camera to see Nora, Jaune, and Ren staring at her tank in stupefaction.

Pyrrha still hadn't moved in the chaos. In fact, _none _of them were moving.

She could yell at them. She could even threaten them with a poor grade. However, during her time at Ironwood she'd found that one of the most effective ways to get her moving was the sound of highly volatile Dust exploding. Hopefully it would work for Team JNPR, and she would be lying if she said there wasn't a gleeful, manic grin on her face as she aimed Grendel's crosshairs at a large Beowolf that was about to climb out of the pit.

It disappeared in a bright blue explosion, vaporized before it even knew what happened, and the shockwave flattened any Grimm unfortunate enough to still be trapped in the pit. The blast was loud enough that the Grimm still hanging back in the forest hesitated, something that Connie was grateful for as Grendel eased to a stop before the frozen Hunters. She reached for a control on the dashboard and turned on the loudspeakers.

"I can give you thirty seconds," she said with false confidence, quickly typing and flicking toggles along the dash. "Get Pyrrha back on her feet or all of us are Grimm bait." Truthfully she was terrified, but thinking about how to squeeze every last drop of power from Grendel helped distract her. Sure, rerouting power from non-critical systems wasn't as effective as pushing the reactor to near-meltdown, but it got the job done.

Behind the tank, Nora and Ren shared a quick look and a nod. "Go help Connie, I can wake Pyrrha up," Ren said, giving Nora a look that gave her no room to argue. She still wanted to though, which was plainly obvious for Ren. Though, somehow, he knew it wasn't concern for Pyrrha. Fully aware of his growing inability to say no to Nora's face, he sighed and relented.

"Fine, you can go help Connie…"

As Nora let out an excited whoop and sprinted to the defense tower, Ren couldn't help but wonder if he'd given the monster that was his best friend _too_ much power over him…

As this was happening, Jaune was frantically checking to see if his partner was alright. Though admittedly he had no idea what he was doing – he'd already checked her pulse and found that either he was partnered with a zombie or that he'd missed something in health-ed, and made sure that her pupils weren't dilated. He was _kinda_ sure that meant she didn't have a concussion… or maybe she did? And other than some minor bruising in her left side and shoulders from being rammed by a Boarbatusk –and consequently ramming _into_ a defense tower – she seemed mostly fine. Still, if she was fine, _why was she just laying there?!_

He needed Pyrrha to tell him what he was doing wrong. Of course, that was somewhat difficult with the girl in question _unconscious._ Even Jaune knew that they didn't stand a chance without her, his own pathetic skills notwithstanding.

With that in mind, he couldn't help but give a shrill scream as Nora flew inches over his head, Magnhild in hand and cackling as she flipped and brought her weapon down on Pyrrha's stomach.

Were it not for the Amazon's superb Aura control, even unconscious, her spine and pelvis would have surely shattered – the blow carried enough force to drive Pyrrha's body a full two inches into the ground. It wasn't surprising that it woke her. Pyrrha was ripped from unconsciousness with dry heaves and a pained shriek, feeling like she'd been hit with a freight train, but she was awake. Still, if Nora thought she would be grateful, the hammer-wielding maniac was sorely mistaken.

"_Nora!"_ Pyrrha bellowed, hunched on all fours as her stomach did its best to vacate her body.

"She's awake!" Nora sang, twirling Magnhild like it was a baton and completely perturbed by Pyrrha's retching. "None can resist my 'Knock Block Wake-up Clock!'"

If her singing wasn't indicative of the girl's utter glee of brutalizing her teammate awake, then the impossibly wide grin was.

-O-O-O-

With every pulse of the vector jets and every shot fired, the reactor thrummed with power. It was a beating, artificial heart, thudding in time to the pilot's commands. The fourteen separate arterioles of the reactor contained enough power to run a small house for years, endlessly shunting compressed Dust through the millimeter-wide tubes. It was more than enough power for a single tank, giving it the capability to run for weeks without resupply.

What was never accounted for, however, was for the reactor's internal brain to be forcibly modified. While it was a simple computer, it was still a computer – therefore, it was subject to overclocking. Though someone skilled could squeeze more and more performance out of a computer through overclocking, the process almost made it inevitable that the machine would make more and more mistakes as heat build-up pushed it closer to frying itself to death

The same could be said of the reactor. Its dampening field had been externally weakened to instability eleven times before, forcing the reactor to perform harder than it had ever been intended to and generating heat that could kill someone within seconds. Still, it had been stable. As long as it wasn't released too often too soon, it would have been fine.

That changed when the tank was force-fed a solid gem of Dust, shredding the reactor's already taxed pulverizing unit that prevented solid matter from entering the reactor itself. The explosion of metal and Dust fragments had rattled the superheated reactor.

Of course, when metal was superheated it was also weakened. That tremor caused a split to form in the reactor wall.

It was the same split that was repaired with ferrosteel and reinforced with a metal collar. While the patch repair did its job, it could do nothing if one of the split reached the arterioles inside it, nor could it prevent them from bursting once that happened.

* * *

CODEX: Passive Resistance Coating (PRC) vs Active Resistance Coating (ARC)

In the last decade, engineers have been researching ways to strengthen armor against Grimm attacks. It is common knowledge that the only surefire way to defend against the Grimm is to have Aura, but as not everyone does, a way for steel to do this has been sought for hundreds of years. It is a known fact that Grimm are able to penetrate steel with their claws, which have been found to be infused with diamond particulate.

With modern technologies however, such a way was found. By weaving Dust into the composition of metal during the smelting process, scientists have been able to nearly double steel's natural resistance. On its own, the difference between PRC and steel are negligible. However, vibrations cause the Dust particles to give off a natural resonance, much like how Aura can manifest itself in the physical world. While not nearly as effective as Aura, PRC gives off a tangible barrier with equivalent strength to how much Dust was originally smelted into the metal, which itself acts much like a tuning fork.

It has also been discovered that this resonance can be manipulated through electricity. When that same metal is electrified and set to a certain frequency, a single piece of millimeter thick sheet metal is able to exponentially larger amounts of force. However, this resonance is difficult to maintain, and will become unstable from conflicting vibrations. While dependent on the amount of Dust smelted into the armor, it will take at least one hour for the resonance to stabilize to a usable state.

Generally, this resonance settles in the thirty to forty megahertz range. However, this can be increased to ten gigahertz to increase the strength of the barrier, while at the same time decreasing stability.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Into the Fire

_This is the last of my backup, guys. I have nothing left. It may be anywhere between a week or a month (hopefully not) before I can get another chapter out. My schedule is extremely sporadic at the moment, and there are times where I have the opportunity to write, but choose not to. Fallout 4 is a poison, I tell ya..._

_That being said, throwing a message my way helps keep me focused. You don't have leave a review or write some 5000 word PM - just throwing me a line saying 'hi' helps keep me on track._

_Thank you for the reviews so far, guys. I hope to be here for many more chapters._

* * *

Tinker Joe and Foe Hammer, callsigns of the fast-deployment Bullheads inbound to SRD-04, streaked over the Emerald Forest at nearly four hundred kilometers per hour. In truth, only one was needed – as the military VTOLs had been stripped of nearly everything but their engines, a single Bullhead-FD could lift nearly three times the weight of a standard civilian model, more than enough to carry a single Hunter team. Coupled with the one-off ram jets strapped to their sides, the machines had both the speed to get where they needed to go, and the lift for whatever they needed to get out.

However, in this instance, it was decided that a pair would be dispatched. One reason was the simple fact that it was an Emergence – if the unthinkable happened and one of the Bullheads was taken out, the other would still be able to complete the mission. The second was that, since the FD variant carried virtually nothing in the way of weaponry aside from a nose-mounted machine gun, a pair of GAH-42BS "Bleed" armored battle suits clung to the underside of Tinker like a pair of fleas.

It was a clumsy design, essentially a rollcage with limbs. Standing at a little under nine feet tall, the pilot would stand in the machine's legs and control its systems with a pair of motorcycle grips, protected only by a metal faceplate. As one of the first mech designs, it was obsolete by most standards and had a nasty habit of chafing the inner thigh. Despite its flaws though, it laid the foundation for all other legged machines and stood as one of the most widely used pieces of equipment in the world, mainly due to its rugged frame and portability.

That, and the fact that it allowed the pilot to field anything up to naval caliber weaponry in enclosed spaces. The large, three-barreled Vulcan cannons bolted to the machine's right arms were used mainly in ship-mounted point defense systems, and were devastatingly effective against the chitinous armor of Grimm.

Flight Lieutenant Carol Rawley, pilot of Foe Hammer, flicked on her radio and said, "Listen up, ladies! Y'all know the briefing, so I'll make this quick – in about one minute we are dropping into the most Grimm-infested hellhole you ground pounders have seen this side of Mountain Glenn. There're students down there so watch your targets! We don't need an incident."

"_Since when did we start a daycare?" _Tinker moaned, rolling his 'Mech-laden Bullhead from side to side as it flew. _"This is so _lame!"

Rawley rolled her eyes -

One of the Bleed pilots cackled. _"Your face is lame!"_

"_Shut up- _just shut the fuck up, _Dexter__!"_ Tinker snarled. _"Another word and I'm dropping you!"_

Though Tinker couldn't see it, Dexter let go of his controls and gave the underside of his Bullhead a double one-fingered salute, while behind him the pilot of the second Bleed tiredly rubbed his helmeted forehead as he muttered, _"__Todos los idiotas son cojos…"_

Suppressing a sigh, Carol Rawley focused all her attention on the radar screen before her, praying that her idiot squad would stop bickering long enough to focus on the mission.

-O-O-O-

"_Proximity alert! Proximity alert! Warning - heat levels critical! Warning -"_

Connie slapped the override and the warbling alarms ceased.

Whatever plan she had prior to throwing herself into an Emergence was gone now; all she could do was act and react as Grimm surrounded her tank, skirting by her in a large circle and lunging at the tank whenever they thought her guard was down. It wasn't – every Beowolf that tried had been vaporized, but she would be lying if she said that the constant battle wasn't taking its toll. The slowly building ache behind her eyes was evidence enough.

It wasn't like she was fighting on foot – not that she would want to anyway – but while she was ensconced within her tank, the same metal hide that kept her safe also prevented her from seeing any more than the tank could.

With gritted teeth, Connie threw Grendel to the side and swung the turret in a wide arc. Yet another Beowolf tried its luck against her, and not only did she dodge it's lunge, the rotating turret swung the barrel right into the beast, sending it flying with a loud crack.

She was holding off the majority of the Emergence so far but some were still coming from the sides, far off to the left and right of the mine, as well as the ones that skirted around the circle of death that she controlled. It was amazing that the Grimm instinctively flocked to the strongest presence, and while that was only thing that spared the mine, it also pushed her and Team JNPR to the breaking point.

Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren were behind her, forming a last line of defense. Ren had helped her for the first few minutes until Pyrrha was back on her feet, and had since fallen back to his team where he and his partner cut down the Grimm that managed to break through Connie's circle of death. Woozy after regaining consciousness, Pyrrha hung back even further on a rock and used Miló's rifle form thin out the Grimm from afar, not trusting herself to stay conscious in the heat of combat. Still, her skill as a sniper was nothing to sneeze at. As far as Connie could tell, one shot meant one less Grimm that they all had to deal with.

And then there was Jaune. Connie was going to give him a thorough dressing-down anyway, but it seemed that he was doing it himself by how he hung back even further than Pyrrha, sulking behind the rock that his partner was perched on. Without a ranged weapon of his own, he could do nothing to help. Connie sighed, hand twitching to take a snapshot at a charging Boarbatusk. His battleplan was flawless, working even without his direction, but his mistake had almost costed everything. It probably still would if the evac was even a second late. Speaking of which…

"Where the hell are those flyboys?" Connie grumbled. It was twenty-seven minutes into the operation, and the SDC transport was two minutes late. Those two minutes could cost all of them their lives. "Useless SDC thugs…" she muttered.

"_What was that, Connie?" _Pyrrha voice asked, coming over the U-OS line.

Connie gulped, only now realizing that she'd forgotten to turn off her throat mic. "Nothing," she said quickly, throwing Grendel to the side and into a Beowolf.

"_Hey, when are those buddy-buddies of yours gonna come?" _Nora asked. She sounded uncharacteristically worried as a dull thud followed by an explosion came over the connection. _"They'll be here, right?"_

Connie glanced at her rearview monitor. She could barely spot him through the crowd of Grimm, but it seemed like he was still sulking. _This must be what it's like to be in command._

"Of course they'll be here," she said, trying not to let her voice crack through the faux-confidence. Still, she glanced at the mission time again. Why were they late? As far as she knew, Grimm had no anti-air weapons… Still, if things were going to go how she feared, she would direct the VDF Bullheads to extract the miners and Team JNPR. The transport Bullheads would never be able to pick up the miners, JNPR, _and _her tank, even if they still had their oversized engines. She would be able to, but she would never be able to bring herself to leave Grendel behind. Connie pushed that unnecessary thought out of her mind and leveled Grendel's cannon at the feet of a group of Grimm, and with a twitch of her trigger finger sent the beasts flying.

"_Connie, there's too many! We can't hold on for much longer!" _Pyrrha's voice called – the beleaguered champion's bullets tore through the Grimm, but for every one she killed, two more took their place. Even with Nora thinning them out, Pyrrha's sights never landed on less than three Grimm at a time.

Even as this was happening, Jaune was sulking by the defense tower, dead to the world.

Connie let loose an animalistic growl.

Tired with the hit-and-run game that the Grimm were playing, Connie shot her tank forward in a burst of speed. If the beasts were shocked at the sudden action they didn't have time to act on it – Grendel bore down on a group of them, nearly running them over before Connie threw herself into an abrupt turn that spun the tank nearly one hundred and eighty degrees. The tank shot to the left in an extreme drift, avoiding a collision, but the collision wasn't the point.

It was the fact that the massive stern thrusters, belching bright blue flame to counteract the tank's momentum, were now directed at the encircling Grimm.

Connie gritted her teeth, the G-forces nearly throwing her body out of her seat despite the five-point restraint, but through the violent shaking she saw the tank's jet wash set swaths of Grimm aflame in her rearview monitor. She held the drift as long as she could, her hands and feet twitching as she felt the weight of her tank shifting through her seat. Connie held her momentum halfway around the encirclement of Grimm, blasting the monsters with searing Dust all the while and still going. She couldn't help her self-satisfied smirk.

-O-O-O-

The vibrations of the reactor were normally curbed by the cradle that housed it. While not common knowledge, nearly all reactors were not bolted directly into the machines they powered, instead mounted in hydraulic-cushioned frames that suspended it in midair. Otherwise, the powerful vibrations they produced would shake both it and the machine it powered apart.

The cradle did its duty up to a point, but it couldn't stop vibrations that harmed the reactor itself. Normally, this would be impossible, as it was a geometrically perfect sphere. Normally, the reactor wouldn't suffer from a gouge that ran within millimeters of one of the veins where liquefied Dust flowed through. Normally, the reactor would not be held together with a patch and ferosteel.

With a sudden snap, the pressure behind the vein burst through the weakened metal.

-O-O-O-

_CRUMP._

Grendel gave a violent shudder, smoke billowing out from under the turret as all power seemed to vanish. Alarms blared in the cockpit even as Connie struggled to maintain control of her craft mid-drift.

"_Warning, warning, reactor breach detected. Reactor breach detected,"_ Grendel intoned. Connie could do nothing but grit her teeth as the tank jerked beneath her – blue contrails flared chaotically from every port on the machine, the reactor too unstable to feed consistent power to the turbine which even now groaned and whined as it struggled to maintain lift. Connie was fighting against the tank itself as the momentum from her drift was pulling her tank into an uncontrollable spin moving at nearly forty miles per hour. It was a grim reminder that the forward thrusters were currently crushed and impacted with gravel and dirt – if they were online, she could stabilize herself or simply kill her speed.

And yet, they weren't.

Connie's heart leapt to her throat as the tank slid further and further from her control… until it finally let go. All she could do was hold on.

Grendel screamed as her stern swung out, and suddenly the tank was sliding backwards. The bottommost edge of the stern scraped along the ground and spun the bow around once more, throwing the tank into a lazy spin as it careened through the encircling Grimm. The Beowolves and Boarbatusk were thrown into chaos – the few in the way of the tank were thrown like bowling pins, while the ones fortunate enough to leap out of the way did so only by leaping on the Grimm around them. If this had been a mob of only Beowolves or only Boarbatusk, this wouldn't have been a problem – however, the aggressive, territorial beasts didn't like being jumped on like mere stepping stones, and the entire group devolved into a roaring, biting mass of fury and gore as the two species of Grimm began tearing each other apart. For the three members of Team JNPR, this was a blessing as the sudden bloodlust dragged any Grimm close by into the melee, including any Ursa that had been lagging behind.

It was also the only reason why Grendel hadn't been mobbed in seconds.

All of this was noted and shoved to the back of Connie's mind as she wrestled with her controls. Her main, rear, and support monitors flickered and even life support was sending stuttering puffs of air through her breathing tube, with the tank's overwhelmed systems focused entirely on bringing the reactor under control.

Even as Connie fought, Grendel lurched across the open field in what could only be called a drunken haze. Jets of flame fired from its ports and consequently died, dumping the cushion of air that would normally be trapped beneath. With it gone, Connie had no control over her machine as it moved.

Her heart leapt to her throat as she realized that Grendel, amid its spins, had thrown itself to the side and straight toward the edge of the mine.

"Shit!" she snarled, and cranked back the throttle.

The sudden loss of what little power that was being fed to the turbine made it die instantly, and an ugly screech of gears ripped from the tank's innards as it crashed to the ground. With no control, Connie could do nothing but grit her teeth and hold on as her tank slid closer and closer to the pit, until it finally stopped with Grendel's nose just peeking over the edge.

With a relieved sigh, Connie fell back in her seat. Though she was able to ignore the vertigo from seeing nothing but a sheer drop on Grendel's monitors, she couldn't help but press a hand to her – helmeted – forehead and mutter, "Too close…"

-O-O-O-

Mouth gaping, Pyrrha stared at the dead tank in shock. She certainly hadn't expected the machine to explode from within; while the explosion wasn't loud or even visibly damaged the tank, it still carried enough force to make her ears pop. Still, having fought – and won – so many of her championship matches taught her that it was the injuries that you didn't see often proved the most devastating.

Still, not only had it surprised her and the rest of the team, but it also threw the surrounding Grimm into disarray. She relaxed her grip on Miló as she watched the mass of Beowolves and Boarbatusk – which only seconds before were determined to kill them all – rip into each other in a blood haze. Perched on a rock, she saw Ren and Nora lower their guards as well, watching the massacre with morbid fascination as more and more Grimm poured from the forest to throw themselves into the fray. It made sense that they were attracted to the fury and bloodlust, but Pyrrha never thought that they were susceptible to other Grimm as well.

With the beasts distracted, she dragged Ren and Pyrrha behind the defense tower, keeping low. When she realized that Jaune was still hiding behind the rock, she dashed back out as quickly and quietly as she could, sliding the last few feet to relative safety. Still, even as she tucked herself against his side to make sure the both of them were good and hidden, her leader didn't even react to her presence.

Checking on the Grimm tearing into each other was only thing that kept the blush from her face. What none of them knew, however, was that when they lowered their guard, they opened themselves to the twin presences that hung back in the shadows. They knew not to give in to their baser instincts, knowing that it would only lead to their own deaths. No, they were patient. They would wait. And then when the moment was right, they would strike.

-O-O-O-

"Reroute through Junction A-7… no, it would cause a power cascade… B-3? No, same thing…"

Thinking out loud, Connie wracked her brain as she raced to bring Grendel back online. In truth she had no idea what she was doing – what little mechanical knowledge she had was only due to her own stubbornness when she rebuilt Grendel, mostly on how to keep the thing running. Performing a field repair on what was essentially Grendel's heart, she was frustrated to admit, was out of her depth. Still, the fact that she still had power gave her hope, even if Grendel was giving off a low, staccato throb as her reactor struggled to behave.

She ripped off her helmet, fighting down her panic. "Okay, okay, c'mon baby, do it for Mama…" she muttered, fingers flying over her keyboard.

This wasn't right. Grendel was hers. She was _hers._ Her baby was in pain, and she could not – would not – allow that.

Fingers shaking, she looked to one of her support monitors.

**\root:**

While Connie didn't have the knowledge to repair the reactor directly, she could bypass it with a little clever rerouting, something she'd tried to picture in her head moments before. Frowning, she reached forward and began typing.

**\root: GrendelInode01: Login~: CarlisleC**

**SCREEN CRAWL: SYSTEM READY**

**\root\CarlisleC: sudo /sbin/fscan –t pow /dev/MAINPOWER**

**SCREEN CRAWL: Executing batch process "deep_root_scan"**

**SCREEN CRAWL: SCANNING**

**SCREEN CRAWL: /dev/MAINPOWER; error detected in arteriole 014**

**SCREEN CRAWL: Device Error (log=32) **Kernel Database "MAINPOWER" cannot be found** Returning to top level**

Connie frowned, tapping a finger on her upper arm as she tried to remember as much of the U-OS coding language as she could. And ignore the terrifying howls outside the steel shell of her machine.

**\root\CarlisleC: sudo ln {/dev/MAINPOWER} {/dev/GUNPOWER} | -Linksys –KernelUpdate "/dev/MAINPOWER"**

**SCREEN CRAWL: Running…**

**SCREEN CRAWL: Kernel database update in progress…**

**SCREEN CRAWL: Linking devices…**

**SCREEN CRAWL: **Error** Root access required to update database files. Please enter admin credentials.**

Connie's fingers flew.

**USER: CarlisleC**

**PASS: ********

**SCREEN CRAWL: ADMIN CLEARANCE ACCEPTED. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO PROCEED?**

Connie paused, holding her breath.

**\root\CarslisleC: Y**

**SCREEN CRAWL: RUNNING…**

**SCREEN CRAWL: DONE.**

**SCREEN CRAWL: **Warning** Power reroute will reduce combat efficiency. Use caution.**

Nothing happened for a long moment, and then thousands of pages of code flicked across the screen, incomprehensible until it finally stopped at an eerily blank screen.

The thought that she'd broken Grendel suddenly filled Connie with terror.

Abruptly, as if to answer her, the flickering on her monitors stopped. The thrum accelerated to a whine as power stabilized, and Grendel snapped to life as if she'd merely been asleep. With a grin, Connie fired her craft's turbine and it screamed to life, lifting Grendel off the ground and away from the edge of the pit.

It was a bandage, she knew. The reactor was still ailing, but she'd taken the strain off of it by shunting the fluctuating power from it directly into the capacitor for the cannon, using it as the tank's power plant instead of the reactor itself. Using it as a buffer would make the cannon fire much slower, with possibly less power as well, but at least Grendel could move. Connie was thankful that whatever blew in the reactor was isolated, but to have it blow out in the first place worried her to her core.

Still, this was too much. This was _too close._

Connie spun her tank around, seeing the sheer chaos that Grendel's malfunction had caused among the Grimm. Shaking off her momentary shock, she urged Grendel forward until she came alongside the rock that Pyrrha was sniping from and popped the hatch, calling out, "Miss Nikos, regroup your team."

She looked to Jaune with a disparaging look, who even now was hiding behind the rock.

"We're getting out of here."

-O-O-O-

He was pathetic. Well and truly pathetic. On a scale of one to ten, he was negative one _billion_ in levels of suck. Jaune Arc thought that he'd hit some lows before… but this, today, took the cake. Not only did he manage to get himself in trouble, but he got Pyrrha injured because of his own stupidity. Never mind that she was alright, never mind that his team was doing a phenomenal – in his opinion – job of holding back the flood of Grimm.

He'd known that he was pathetic for resorting to forging his acceptance letter, but right then, Jaune realized that he felt purely and utterly _disgusting_ to be an Arc.

-O-O-O-

Pyrrha hauled a near catatonic Jaune to his feet, taking care not to be loud as she said in his ear, "Jaune, we have to move!"

Shocked and dragged along by his partner, Jaune struggled to get his feet under him. "P-Pyrrha?! What's happening?"

She pointed to her left, where the mass of Grimm roiled in unrestrained fury. Blanching at the black ichor that seemed to fly endlessly from the melee, Jaune looked to Pyrrha as she said, "The Grimm are fighting each other, but if don't move we'll be dragged into it! We need to leave!"

Unable to protest and bent over from Pyrrha shoving his head down to keep from being spotted, Jaune let himself be dragged in an odd, half-over run to where the tank hovered nearby, behind the defense tower the rock sat beside. Out of sight of the mass of Grimm, Nora waved them over as she mouthed, "_Hurry up!"_

This time, it was Jaune that dragged Pyrrha the last few feet to the tower, and once there he saw Ren desperately trying to pull Nora back into cover to no avail – the girl herself was fascinated by the Grimm's bloodlust, unable to tear her eyes away from the slaughter. It wouldn't have been bad if she wasn't leaning halfway out of cover, fully visible to whatever monstrosity looked their way. And though it was like an Ursa trying to hide behind a stump, the tank had angled itself behind the tower as well, nose to the tower and stern to the pit, hatch open and Connie pounding away at her keyboard.

Pyrrha leapt on the tank next to the cockpit, crouching. "What's the situation?" she questioned.

Impassive through her helmet, Connie didn't tear her eyes from her monitor as she said, "Not good. The VDF Bullheads are about to arrive and the SDC is nowhere to be seen. Nothing on long-range scanners, I can't even hail them from any frequency that they use."

"D-does that mean no help's coming?" Jaune asked fearfully. Now that he wasn't wallowing in self-pity and come back to his senses, a pit of ice-cold terror had settled inside him. The fearsome roars and snarls of the Grimm slaughtering themselves didn't help any.

Connie scoffed, leveling a red-eyed stare at Jaune – somehow, he knew that she was giving him a look of scorn. "Help _is_ coming, the VDF pilots know what they're doing," she said sternly. "I can't say the same for the SDC…"

It was then that an alarm chimed from her controls.

Before Connie could even look at it, a pair of angular-armored Bullheads flew over the tops of the trees and over their heads. A blast of sound slammed into them half a second later, stunning the lot of them as the Bullheads dropped the smoking barrel-like jets strapped to their sides and angled their engines almost all the way back, killing their speed almost instantly as they angled around and positioned themselves almost directly overhead. They could see twin masses of metal attached to the belly of one of the Bullheads, though they were too high up to see what they were.

All of them looked at the Bullheads with wide-eyed astonishment – though Connie merely sported a satisfied smirk – though it was Jaune that broke the silence and said, "Holy crap! Are those the guys?"

Connie's only response were narrowed eyes, hidden by her helmet.

A series of rapid thunks sounded from the Bullhead, the sound of explosive bolts detonating to release its cargo. The cradles they were carried in fell away as they dropped, legs stretching out and arms unfurling before they hit the ground with a titanic crash of metal and dust right next to the group, making the ground shudder violently.

# - Avalanche - Trocadero

The same crash drew the attention of some of the Grimm – while most were still embroiled in their vicious brawl, the nearest turned to the dust cloud that had been thrown from the impact. It cleared, slowly dissipating until the pair of squat, ungainly powered suits were fully visible. Also visible were the rotary cannons on their right arms that were as long as Ruby was tall. The girl would've had an aneurism, Pyrrha was sure of that.

Meanwhile, the Grimm eyed the newcomers with curiosity and hunger.

Connie eyed the powered suits as well, mentally nodding in approval. _Bleeds… D variant, equipped with CZ57 Avenger cannons. They'll work._

"_This is Flight Lieutenant Rawley, and thank you for flying Air Foe Ha-"_

Before the pilot could say anything more, Connie keyed her throat mike. "This is armored fighting vehicle Grendel, ident G-LBT-one-one-seven-nine! SDC evac hasn't arrived! I repeat, SDC evac has not arrived! Recommend dispersal and evacuation of high value targets, blanket fire will commence in five minutes!"

As the pair of Bleeds staggered from having a voice quite literally scream into their ears, the pair of Bullheads swooped down low, hovering just a few feet above the defense towers.

"_Acknowledged Grendel, identify targets,"_ a male voice asked.

Connie steeled herself. "Targets include four Hunters-in-training and twenty miners, prioritize and retrieve."

Hoping no one noticed her omission, she punched in a command that sent targeting data for all the people Grendel's sensors could detect.

"_Receiving data loud and clear. Joe, get down there and pick up as many as you can carry! Dexter, Lopez, dig yourselves in and give'em hell!"_

"_Got it!"_

"_Si, Comandante!"_

The two Bleeds stomped forward in an ungainly waddle, garnering even more attention from the roiling mess of Grimm that was beginning to slow as they came to their senses.

Pyrrha leaned forward, braced against the open hatch of Grendel and hovering right above Connie's head. "What are they doing, they're going to get killed!" she exclaimed.

Connie smirked. "Watch."

Their slow waddle sped up, turning into a heavy, sure-footed lope as the Bleeds charged at the Grimm. The few Beowolves that had been watching them stumbled back, confused why their own prey was attacking _them,_ when the fearsome, multi-barreled cannons spooled up with a loud squeal of metal.

It was loud, enough so that they could feel their Auras working to repair the damage that threatened to turn them deaf. At first they thought it was a buzzsaw – an incredibly loud buzzsaw – but soon they realized that it was the rotary cannons making the deafening racket. The Bleeds handled the recoil incredibly well, leaning forward as the cannons spat out 5 milimeter rounds fast enough that all the four of them heard was a long, continuous gunshot. They were fed from the massive drum magazines bolted to the backs of the Bleeds, giving them more than enough ammunition, and with the rounds containing an explosive filling and detonating fuse the bullets tore through the throngs of Grimm with devastating ease, turning the frenzied melee into a bloody massacre.

With her hands clapped over her ears, Nora grinned psychotically as she screamed, "I want one!"

Ren refused, giving her a flat-out, '_No,'_ with a mere deadpanned look.

As the five watched the bloody spectacle, Jester and Foe Hammer had drifted over the middle of the seemingly abandoned mine, though they were all perfectly visible on infrared imaging, with the miners huddled in the remaining buildings. Flight Lieutentant Rawley flicked on her craft's loudspeaker and called out, _"Attention miners of SRD-04! Your evac is late, and unless you want to face down hellfire and brimstone falling from the sky I suggest y'all get out here for extraction!"_

At that, twenty miners piled out in seconds, waving their hands in an effort to be noticed.

Carol smirked. _Works every time._

As the pair of Bullheads drifted to the ground, extending landing legs as they did so, the pair of Bleeds raked fire over the mass of Grimm as they tried to get away. Black ichor had sprayed the machine's faceplates as more and more Beowolves and Boarbatusk fell to their weapons, until all that remained of the dozens of Grimm was a mess of dismembered parts that were rapidly evaporating. With the threat eliminated, the Bleeds waddled their way back to Grendel, their pilots chortling over the radio.

In total, they had been firing for only fourteen seconds.

That knowledge was incredibly humbling for Pyrrha, as well as Ren. For a reigning champion and an Aura control ace to be so beleaguered was… disgraceful.

The two Bleeds reached them, the right-hand one thudding its bare left arm into the shoulder of its partner. "So, ya beat my record yet, Lopez?"

"Creo que si – tengo cuarenta y ocho."

"Shit, you only got eight? Sorry, dude."

"No!_ Cuarenta _y ocho! Aprender español, idiota!"

"Oh, so you forfeit? Thanks for the easy win, man!"

"Joder mi vida."

Suddenly, Pyrrha and Ren weren't feeling so down on themselves.

Connie rolled her eyes, more than used to such bravado. "Bleed One and Bleed Two, status."

The pilots turned their machines around, keeping their weapons trained on the forest around them as the right-hand pilot looked over his shoulder and, surprising all of them, said in a professional tone, "Two hundred and fifty two rounds remaining."

"Doscientos y tres balas."

At this, Jaune blanched. "You guys have _more_ bullets?!"

Connie bit down on her annoyance – the Arc boy, despite his somewhat apparent strategic abilities, was _really_ wearing on her nerves. "Mister Arc, those weapons are CZ57 Avenger rotary cannons. They fire over three thousand rounds per minute. The ammo they have will be barely one second of continuous fire."

Surprisingly, it was Nora that went quiet. "So they can't do that pew-pew thing again," she observed.

Connie nodded. "At least not for long," she said, a little too calmly. "But you don't need to be concerned about that, the four of you will be in the air within the next twenty seconds."

The Bleed pilots said nothing, scanning the treeline for any threats.

A wave of relief swept through all of them, Jaune especially. Training or not, nothing had prepared them to face down an Emergence, on their first actual patrol, no less. Even Pyrrha let out a sigh of relief, her headache having worsened in the chaos and wanting nothing more than to collapse in her bed and relax her weary muscles.

It was then that Pyrrha realized something, something that made her insides go cold with dread. "Wait, the four of us? What about you?"

Her teammates went pale with realization.

Connie said nothing. She merely hit a control, slamming her cockpit hatch shut.

"Connie, wait!" Pyrrha shouted, hoping to grab the edge and pry the hatch open, but to no avail. She settled for pounding it with her fist. "Open the hatch this instant!"

The hard metal didn't budge, and the girl had already disconnected from the link between their four scrolls. The tank began to move, forcing all of them to get off as it maneuvered in front of the Bleeds with its barrel covering the treeline, scanning for targets.

Down in the mine the two Bullheads had finished loading up the miners, Tinker Joe with considerably more packed into his cargo hold. With his task done, he angled his craft high into the air and tilted his engines forward, sending the Bullhead rocketing into the distance as Foe Hammer piloted her own machine closer to where the group huddled at the edge of the pit. Rawley saw the tank maneuver in front of them all and, having seen the state of Church and Lopez's ammo counters on her own display, knew instantly what was going to happen.

If nothing else, she was filled with respect for the tank pilot.

Team JNPR looked up when the lone Bullhead drifted closer to them, coming in for a landing before the machine finally settled on its landing struts.

"_Alright y'all, pile in! We're running out of time!"_

As if to answer Rawley, a cacophony of howls and snarls ripped from the forest, filling all of them with dread. The Grimm were back.

"But what about Connie?" Pyrrha demanded.

Having heard the Huntress over the U-OS line, Rawley sighed before she switched over to the student's private line, speaking only to them through their scrolls. _"Look kids,"_ she said, _"your friend knew this would happen one day. She's prepared to do what's necessary to ensure your survival – all of us are. You kids are too important to the future to simply die in this pit. So are you going to mope around and let yourself get killed, or are you going to make sure that your friend doesn't die for nothing?"_

Pyrrha glared at the Bullhead, and then at Grendel. All of them did. "No sacrifice is worth it. We're not leaving without her," Pyrrha stated, filled with conviction. Her words even moved Jaune, and he was compelled to stand taller in defiance.

Having witnessed all this, Connie sighed and tapped a control. "Bleed One, Bleed Two, get them out of here," she said over her loudspeakers

Before any of them could react, the Bleeds had gotten behind the team and swept them up into an iron bear hug. Pinned between an armored chest and an arm, none of them could get themselves free as the powered suits stomped to the waiting Bullhead, where six of the miners were waiting in the crew compartment.

"Stop! We can't leave Connie!" Nora screamed in distress, trying in vain to bring Magnhild to bear.

"Keep hold of them!" Dexter yelled over the scream of the engines, struggling to keep a grip on Pyrrha and Nora before he unceremoniously dumped them into the waiting arms of the miners. Pyrrha barely hit the metal grating of the floor before she was snatched up once more, with her arms pinned behind her and an arm looped around her neck – Nora was given the same treatment, as were Jaune and Ren when they were dumped in as well.

The door of the Bullhead began to close.

"No!" Pyrrha shouted, struggling for all she was worth, and her last sight before the door closed completely was that of Grendel scanning the treeline.

This wasn't right. This couldn't be it. She couldn't claim to know Connie well, but _no one _deserved to be at the mercy of Grimm.

And so, she began to struggle even more.

-O-O-O-

Connie sighed as Team JNPR – _her_ charges – were carried away. It niggled at her pride that she failed them, but at least they would live to see tomorrow.

Strangely, Connie felt… tired. It was an entirely foreign feeling, but it brought unbidden memories to the front of her mind. Her mother. Her father. And finally, a girl with a red hood and a scythe, who was too persistent for her own good.

The thought of Ruby gave her pause. It was true that, even now, Connie still didn't trust her, but Ruby had at least shown her that she might be able to. Or, could have. Still, she was thankful that she'd at least met Ruby. She was glad to have met the one person who could possibly have been the most innocent girl on the face of Remnant.

She paused, the calm still filling her as she reached out to make one final broadcast to JNPR's scrolls.

"Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren… thank you for allowing me to provide an escort today," she said quietly, not knowing whether or not they would be able to hear. "Please take a message to Ruby Rose for me."

Connie paused. "Tell her I said thank you."

She pondered saying something more before she abruptly closed the line, just in time to see the first Beowolf bound outof the forest. Her thoughts were blank as she spun Grendel around, heading away from the Bullhead as she leveled her tank's crosshairs over the Grimm and fired.

-O-O-O-

"_Tell her I said thank you."_

Pyrrha thrashed against the miner that held her, slamming him into the wall of the Bullhead. Holding her captive was the foreman himself, veins in his arms bulging as he struggled to contain the superhuman woman, his face scrunched in concentration as he hissed in her ear, "Calm the fuck down – you want to bring us down?!"

His question was directed at all of them, with each member of Team JNPR trying to break free. While Jaune meekly pulled at the single miner that held his arms at bay and forced him to stay pressed against the wall, it was Nora that was struggling even more than Pyrrha, repeatedly slamming the three grown men against the side of the Bullhead with enough force to make the aircraft shudder with each blow. And while Ren wasn't struggling, Pyrrha could tell the truth – she could feel his Aura gathering within his wiry frame, something that only another attuned to Aura could tell. It was tightly packed like a spring, ready to be called into action at a moment's notice.

Perfect.

Catching Jaune's eye, Pyrrha was inwardly pleased when she saw a calculating look of his own, watching Nora pound her three miners into submission, and gave a subtle nod to her and Ren. Jaune waited, wincing every time a body collided with the steel bulkhead until Nora finally turned just the right way and slammed a miner headfirst into the hydraulic piston that held the portside door closed.

He dropped faster than a sack of potatoes.

Much like Team JNPR, the miners were accustomed to helping their own – it would be impossible for one of them to ignore the fact that one of them had just been rendered unconscious by a _girl_. Wearing nauseating amounts of _pink. _It was this moment of distraction that Jaune was waiting for. When he felt the hands keeping him seated slacken, he shouted, "_Now!"_

Pyrrha snapped her head back, smashing the back of her metal circlet against the man's nose. He fell away with a cry of pain, letting go in the process, only to catch a heel to the temple from Pyrrha's lightning-fast roundhouse kick. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Jaune's plan was to wrench his arms away, pull out his sword, and slam the hilt into the man's head. In reality, he jerked forward in his struggle until the miner lost his patience and trapped the teen in an iron bear hug, lifting Jaune off his feet with an undignified squawk and his legs kicking naught but air, bouncing uselessly off the man's knees.

With her right arm already free, Nora wasted no time in grabbing the one holding her left arm back. With a savage grin she grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and tossed him at the bulkhead between the cargo hold and cockpit, leaving the man to slump to the ground in a heap. The miner that had her in a chokehold fared no better – with both arms free, Nora effortlessly reached over her shoulders, grabbed the man's ears, and with a keening wail of pain from the man hauled him up and over to slam him headfirst into the metal floor, silencing him in a daze of pain.

Out of all of them, it was Ren that took out the miner restraining him with the least amount of effort. While it was true that he didn't have endless pools of Aura to call upon or the strength to physically overpower the man, he did have one thing that none of Team JNPR had; control. With the deftness of a surgeon, Ren called upon his already-primed Aura and willed it to travel through the man's arms, blocking nerves along the way, up through his shoulders and up through his neck to physically pinch the pons, a small piece at the base of the brain that stimulated sleep.

The man was out cold before he even realized they were being overpowered.

"_What the hell is going on back there?" _a voice called over the intercom, belonging to the Bullhead pilot. They would need to work quickly, though it was especially lucky that the cockpit was sealed from the cargo bay itself in military-built Bullheads.

Now free, the three of them looked to their leader… who was now turning a deep shade of blue, being crushed against the miner's chest as the man backed closer and closer to the corner nearest Ren, looking at the Hunters-in-training in abject terror.

"_Help…" _Jaune squeaked.

With a sigh – as close as he could get to rolling his eyes – Ren crept along the wall, crossing the distance between him and the miner within moments before the man realized he was there. With a quick chop to the back of his head, the miner was out. Unfortunately, after he was rendered unconscious he fell forward onto Jaune.

This was lost on the rest of the team as they faced the door they were shoved in moments before. Still, they were fortunate – the Bullhead was still on the ground. In truth, Carol Rawley was waiting for the Bleed pilots to clamp onto her Bullhead, cursing out Lopez in her mind when it turned out that his left manipulator claw had jammed. It didn't help that, to save on costs, no cameras or intercoms were installed in the cargo area of Bullhead-FD variants. While it did help keep the pilots focused on their task in the event a friend was dying, it made them deaf and blind at the same time.

Giving the hatch a glare, Pyrrha reached out and pressed her hand against it. She knew what she was about to do would most likely get her in trouble with the VDF. Not to mention it put herself, her team, and this entire Bullhead in danger if she lost her concentration for even a moment, as well as spit in the face of what Connie was trying to do. However, if Pyrrha was perfectly frank, she didn't care, and she would rather take the chance than let someone die in her place. She refused to allow that to happen.

If the repeated explosions were anything to go by, Connie was having a difficult time.

Ren placed a hand on her shoulder, giving Pyrrha an encouraging nod at seeing her hesitate. With a smile, she nodded back before turning her attention to the hatch once more, focusing her Aura on it and letting it latch into the metal itself.

"Cover your eyes, there's going to be shrapnel," she warned, before she pushed out her Aura in a quick, violent burst. Her entire body glowed with black aura that she directed at the hatch, ripping it off with such ease that it actually made her wary of her own power for a brief moment. Just as she said, the screech of metal was accompanied by a spray of metal shards, luckily stopped by the very magnetic field that ripped the door off.

Still, now that the door was gone they were free to get Connie out of there, whether she liked it or not. Even from here Pyrrha could see the tank endlessly firing shot after shot, though no matter could much the pilot pushed to keep the hordes at bay, Pyrrha could tell that the Grimm were slowly creeping closer.

She would drag that girl out of her steel coffin if she had to.

Still, there was one thing she didn't realize.

_Cl-clunk._

A shudder ran through the floor, throwing off their balance.

"_Y'all back there hold on to your butts! We're goin' up!"_

The only thing keeping the Bullhead grounded was Lopez' malfunctioning claw, and he just fixed it.

With a scream of turbines, the Bullhead shot into the air with enough force that the three fell to the floor. The pair of Bleeds dangled from the tail section of the aircraft, secured only by the thick, metal handholds that their claws held on to, firing what little ordinance they had left as they rose higher in the air. Disoriented, it took Pyrrha all she had to crawl to the open hatch and was stunned to find that they had already risen nearly a hundred feet in the air, well above the defense towers that guarded the mine. She had a clear view of the lone tank that was slowly being pushed back by an endless sea of writhing black, giving ground for just a few more seconds of life to stave off being torn apart by the demon horde.

Such a fate was too cruel. It was one that Pyrrha refused to allow.

Leaning against the bulkhead, Pyrrha reached out of the Bullhead at the tank. Her Aura stretched out, invisible tendrils that searched for a specific target to latch on to. One by one they disappeared as she spread herself thinner and thinner, sweat accumulating on her brow as she urged her Aura to reach farther than it ever had before.

Just as it felt like she would pass out from the strain, her Aura latched on. Her strength returned with enough force to nearly knock her over, but she cleared her head in time to see the hordes of Grimm break through the tank's defensive line.

It was still enough time to gather her Aura around herself, latch her body to the metal around her, and pull.

-O-O-O-

When Connie saw Team JNPR unceremoniously dumped into the waiting Bullhead, she expected to feel peace. She expected… _something,_ anything but the hollowness in her chest. It hurt- why did it _hurt?_

Her mind was in another place as her body threw Grendel into maneuvers that, quite frankly, should have made her black out. While her hands and feet moved to make Grendel dance as she never had before, she wondered why she cared so much, why she cared at all. The mission was a success – the miners had been extracted, the young hunters were on their way to safety. It was a textbook operation, at the cost of a single Faunus and a replaceable hovertank. All she had to do now was stop. Lay down and-

-O-O-O-

_A thirteen year old Connie stared down the barrel of her professor's gun, eyes wide and frozen at her desk. It had been so quick – one little question, and the bear of a man had her in his sights with an uncaring, unfeeling stare, like she was insignificant. A bug on the sole of his shoe. The man stepped around his desk, the gun never wavering as he walked among the other students in the classroom, each of them staring at him with equally wide, terrified eyes._

"_What was that?" the man asked, his voice deathly calm._

_Connie gulped, throat dry as she broke out in a sweat. "I-I… wha-I don't –"_

BANG.

_The gun went off, drawing screams even louder than the gunshot. Having felt the heat of the bullet graze by her ear, Connie was too stunned to notice the professor fire another shot into the ceiling, silencing the students. It was only when the gun was pressed to her forehead that she snapped back to reality._

"_What was that?" the man asked again._

_Connie willed her trembling body to cooperate – even when her brain was screaming at her to run the hell out of there – as she rushed, "The-the armor. It doesn't stand up to Grimm. How do we defend ourselves?"_

_The man smirked. "In any formation, the Faunus units will be deployed ahead of our Hunters to find what the situation is, as well as soften any hostiles."_

"_But… sir, shouldn't our Aura be unlocked? If our Armors get destroyed, how will we defend ourselves?"_

"…_Have you ever heard of the term 'cannon fodder?' The Hunters are the important ones – if things play out like Ironwood expects them to, you'd damn well better take down as many hostiles as possible with you. We need as many Hunters as we can spare, and if your bones distract the enemy, so be it."_

_At long last he pulled the gun away and holstered it, making the entire room breathe a sigh of relief. "I like your spunk, kid. Most piss themselves at the wrong end of my gun," he said, walking back to his desk. "But if it ever becomes apparent that your death is the best course of action, just lay down and die."_

-O-O-O-

Lay down and die. Lay down and die. _Lay down and die._

With those four words swirling around in her head the overwhelming feeling of nothingness vanished, only to be replaced by a strange, serene calm that coursed through her veins. As she distractedly commanded Grendel to move and fight, Connie tried to make sense of what it was. It _burned _through her, focusing her mind, bringing clarity despite the horde threatening to overwhelm her. She could see every strand of fur and reacted faster than she'd ever had before, making Grendel dance at her command.

It was strange, this feeling… but, then she realized that she'd felt it before without truly noticing it. It fueled her desertion, kept her alive even when her mind had shut down during training. It was what compelled her to go the VDF and retrieve her tank. It was what made her test Ruby.

It was her drive. It was her mistrust. It was her anxiety.

A low growl bubbled up her throat as she was brought back to the present, the feeling twisting and morphing within her as she realized what it was. It was a constant companion, fueling her like it was her own guardian angel.

It was wrath.

What she felt was against her training. It went against all she knew. But right then, she couldn't bring herself to give a shit.

Connie snarled as she swung the barrel, batting aside a lunging Beowolf before aiming at the feet of a pair of Boarbatusk. Lay down and die? At the claws of these vermin overwhelming her? No, no, _no – _Connie _refused_ to give up and die like an animal. A growl ripped from her throat she fired as fast as Grendel's beleaguered reactor would allow, urging her machine back towards the edge of the pit.

"I'm not going to die today," she hissed, blowing away an Ursa. And then another. And another.

And they just kept coming, like a swarm of rats after half-dead prey.

"_I'm not going to die today!"_

The feeling pooled and bubbled in her chest, her cold fury rising to new heights every second until it felt like her chest would burst.

And then it did.

It felt like she'd been struck in the chest by one of the SDC's four-railed trains, a fist slamming her back in her seat as the dam broke. Connie was breathless, actually letting go of her controls to grab at the front of her piloting suit. She was so busy making sure that her chest actually _didn't _explode that she missed twin streams of bullets ripping into the horde from above, giving her a much needed reprieve to collect herself.

Connie shook her head. Her wrath had abated, though she could still feel it just beneath the surface.

Any further thought was interrupted when a snarling Beowolf lunged at Grendel, forcing Connie to swing her tank to the side. She was about to swing her turret around when she realized that the beast had already fallen down into the pit, yeowling all the while. It saved her the trouble, but that also meant one thing.

Her tank was right at the edge of the pit.

The Grimm seemed to know this, too. Instead of all rushing her they hung back, forming a half circle around the tank to ensure it couldn't escape. It was either die by them, or die from the fall.

Connie bit her lip, that feeling bubbling up once more. It was mixed with nausea, and she brought a hand to her breathing mask. "…I don't want to die," she whispered, surprising even herself at the realization.

It was then that she saw them. The Grand Boarbatusk and the Elder Beowolf, having fallen back amid the chaos, had made their way out of the trees and through their respective packs. It was a testament to their strength that they were able to control all these Grimm, let alone the Ursa. The pair of beasts seemed to know it too, baring their teeth in feral, bloodthirsty grins as they broke through the surrounding mob and faced her down.

That was it. They _wanted _her to be cornered, like a rat in a trap. The leaders would get first pickings at her before leaving her for the rest, a thought that sent chills down her spine.

Connie felt numb, hands falling from her controls. It was going to end, just like that. She wouldn't be remembered. She wouldn't be mourned. Just gone, like a pebble into the sea. Tears in rain.

Unnoticed by her, a faint shimmer crackled over her knuckles.

The Elder Beowolf snarled and prepared to lunge.

An image of Ruby flashed through Connie's mind in her last moments…

Or, they would have been her last moments, if a slab of metal hadn't flown through the air and slammed into the back of the Beowolf's head with enough force that it was knocked off its feet and dragged headfirst into the ground.

Connie stared at the twitching corpse, half-buried in a mound of dirt. And then she realized the slab of metal for what it was – the portside armored hatch to an FD-Bullhead.

It could only be Team JNPR.

With the Grimm stunned at the loss of one of their leaders, she looked to the Bullhead and was dismayed to see that they were ready to leap back into battle, orders be damned. A quick mental look at her objectives told Connie that everything had already been accounted for, so there was no reason for them to stay, except for her.

It was… flattering.

And then the Bullhead shot into the air. It quickly rose out of reach, from both Grimm and humans.

Connie let out a shakey breath.

Finally, it was done, and all she could feel was… sorrow.

_But,_ Connie thought, looking back to the Grimm as she readied her controls, _I can make it as difficult as possible for these monsters._

During the confusion, Connie had been edging her machine farther and farther over the edge of the pit. With the time that had gone by, she had managed to get nearly half out Grendel's stern hanging in midair, her rear thrusters screaming in protest, but it was necessary for what was to come next. The noise drew the attention of the closest Grimm, including the Grand Boarbatusk.

Connie was undeterred, shoving aside the ache in her chest. She hit a switch, cranked her external speakers to the max. "Creatures of Grimm," she said, unbothered that the beasts couldn't understand her. "I am Private First Class Constance Carlisle. You'll pay _dearly_ for me."

She rammed her throttle open, sending her tank rocketing forward. _"COME!"_ she screamed.

Her sudden charge stunned the lot of them into inaction, save for the Grand Boarbatusk. It let out a challenging roar before it ducked into one of its species signature attacks – a wild, kamikaze wheel of death that was all the more dangerous from its tusks and jagged spines. Connie immediately focused fire on it and fired a trio of shots that slammed into the Boarbatusk's hide, completely ineffectual in knocking it off course at her. With a curse, she juked Grendel to the side with a blast of her portside thrusters.

The Grimm squealed in fury as it passed barely a foot from the tank.

Connie swung her tank around, firing into the mob of spectating Grimm before charging at the Boarbatusk once more, which was only now coming out of its roll and trying to turn around. The Boarbatusk screamed as Dust explosions wracked its body, burning the unprotected flesh of its side as the force nearly knocked it off its feet. Those precious few seconds as it recovered were all it took for to Connie throw her machine into the narrow gap between it and the edge of the mine, firing shot after shot that further enraged the beast.

Grendel shuddered, rattling before it stabilized once more.

"_Warning, power fluctuations detected."_

"No, not now!" Connie fearfully shouted.

Again, unnoticed by her, a faint shimmering flowed over her hands.

Connie gritted her teeth as Grendel wobbled beneath her – the capacitor was still supplying power, sure, but in all the confusion and panic she hadn't realized that the main reactor had been leaking this entire time. The capacitor was doing all it could to stabilize the seizing reactor, but under the new strain of firing and circling the Boarbatusk, there was only so much it could do.

Grendel stuttered, losing power for a split second before it caught itself on its jets once more.

The Boarbatusk, enraged and in pain, bellowed as it blindly lashed out in that split second she wasn't firing, clipping the nose of the tank and sending it into an uncontrollable spin straight for the horde of waiting Grimm.

Her mind was blank.

And then, it happened. There was a lurch, followed by an odd, warbling squawk from Grendel's systems as power to the thrusters completely died. The reactor had lost what little stability it had left to remain functional. Connie expected to feel a jarring impact from her machine hitting the ground, and then blinding pain as she was ripped apart and eaten.

Her sensors, however, told her a different story. Her machine was being bombarded by intense magnetic fields that shut down the reactor, but more than that, _she was flying. _The oddity of her tank flying without any aid from its thrusters was disconcerting, frightening really. It was surreal, almost dreamlike as she watched Grendel leave the ground, pass inches above the heads of the nearest Grimm and move higher and higher into the air. With the object of its rage getting further and further out of reach, the Grand Boarbatusk, still blinded by pain, took its rage out on the beasts around it.

Connie shook herself. There had to be an explanation.

She popped her hatch, her piloting suit protecting her from the harsh winds as she looked up at the Bullhead. She was dragged about twenty feet behind the VTOL and nearly fifty below it, giving her a good view of the twin Bleeds that were still latched to the VTOL, ruling out that they'd sacrificed themselves instead of her. There was no winch of any sort that could grapple onto her tank, let alone that Grendel wasn't attached to the Bullhead by any means she could see.

Just what on Remnant was going on?

"_Connie!"_ she heard a voice scream. She looked up, only to be shocked at the sight of Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha leaning out of the open hatchway… with Pyrrha reaching for her…

Filled with trepidation, Connie manipulated a control that panned the turret camera up and zoomed in, clearly showing the three with worried expressions. But that didn't get her attention – what she was focused on was the black, shimmering Aura flowing around Pyrrha's hand. While Connie certainly didn't know to how to use Aura herself, she could certainly see the signs of someone straining themselves.

Whatever power Pyrrha had, it was clearly taxing on her.

Connie grabbed her radio, patching into the U-OS line. "Pyrrha Nikos, what the hell are you _doing!?"_ she growled into her radio, once again annoyed by the fact that people wanted to do her job.

How the hell was she supposed to protect them if they kept putting themselves in danger?!

"_¡¿Qué?! ¿Cómo está ella aquí ?!_

"_What the- How the hell is she here?!"_

"_Girl, you must have some kind of luck, 'cause _I know _I don't have a grappling hook on this thing."_

Connie ignored them all, glaring at the monitor as if she could send her heated glare straight through it. "Pyrrha Nikos, release your Semblence _immediately._ You are going to deplete your Aura."

Pyrrha made a gesture with her head, and Connie could see a scroll held to her ear. She could hear the girl's ragged breaths as she wheezed, _"You… risked your life for us… we wouldn't have… made it out of there if… it wasn't for you."_

The girl clenched her fist. _"I'm going… to do the same for you."_

Even as Grendel came closer to the Bullhead – close enough that Connie could see the three hunters without looking through her monitor – she stood from her seat, leaning against the buffeting wind and yelled, "How am I supposed to protect all of you _if you keep throwing yourselves in danger?!"_

With only twenty feet separating them, Connie couldn't miss Pyrrha's own heated glare. "No one asked you! I didn't! I chose this!"

At this, Connie stilled. Her annoyance faded as she stared at the Hunters-in-training, all watching her, and not a trace of fear or panic among them.

She sank back in her seat, feeling… empty. They were right. They didn't ask her. They all became Huntsmen and Huntresses knowing full well that they would die someday.

Left to her thoughts, she didn't notice the horde behind them flowing down the sides of the mine, a bloodthirsty sea of black that came from all sides. She didn't notice as they rounded on the massive, bunker-like door to the main tunnels.

She certainly didn't notice the screams and burning tracers as twenty inch shells streaked by the Bullhead, thundering into the mine with massive gouts of flame and shrapnel. The shells didn't stop coming until well after they had entered Beacon's airspace nearly an hour later, whereupon Pyrrha, exhausted, released her hold on Grendel and let it drop the remaining twenty feet to the landing pad, passing out immediately after.

With nothing more than a bruised tailbone, Connie followed the procession of doctors as they rushed the champion to the infirmary.

-O-O-O-

"_Hello, I am Lisa Lavender of the Vale News Network, live from the C.I. Headquarters in Atlas. Carlisle Industries is one of the world's most rapidly growing technology development firms, with a primary focus on weapons design. This network is lucky enough to have an exclusive interview with the company's CEO, Eduard Carlisle. How are you today, Mr. Carlisle?"_

"_Just fine, Lisa. And please, just stick with Eduard. Ed works, too."_

"_Very well, Mr. Eduard. Now, your company is on the cutting edge of weapons technology. This has many people worried that a single company is in control of such weapons, including many people in the military who commission your company. What is your opinion on this?"_

_Chuckles. "Well, you go right to the hard ones… Lisa, what needs to be understood is that this company is small. We don't have the capability to mass-produce weapons, it's not my vision for the company. We make prototypes, concept designs, test types – that's all we can do. We get commissioned for an idea, we recreate that idea, and we present it to the buyer. Furthermore, we don't stockpile weapons, only designs and plans."_

"_I see. Then, what are your thoughts on the White Fang? Do you think there will be a point that your weapons will be used on them?"_

"_No. The White Fang are a desperate group of people who see that violence is the only way to get what they want. What they need is a solution, not a big stick cracking them over the head."_

"_Then are these reports of your technology operating in suspected White Fang territory false?"_

"_Those reports are true. Control of the M3B2-L was superseded by my Board of Directors without my knowledge and sold to Atlesian Robotics. The Atlesian Knight-130 is unfinished, I just hope they don't hurt any Faunus needlessly."_

"_Will this action be taken as a threat?"_

"_Personally, I have no clue. I hope not. I just hope war won't break out."_

"_And what of your family?"_

_Glare. "Excuse me?"_

"_You are married to a red fox Faunus, and have a red fox Faunus daughter. If war were to break out, what would you do?"_

"…_What exactly are you saying?"_

_Any viewer could detect the hostility in his voice, something that Lisa Lavender saw with smug satisfaction. His response was sure to stir up the taboids._

"_What I'm saying, Mr. Eduard, is that if you were forced to choose between your 'family' and a human town being threatened by the White Fang, which would you choose?"_

_Sigh. "I see. You're trying to make me seem like a Faunus hater or a Faunus sympathizer."_

"_No, of course not! I am only trying to –"_

"_You're trying to make a fool out of me. You want an answer? Fine. I would expend enough ordinance that _nothing_ would be alive to threaten anyone anymore."_

"_Then you would condone the slaughter of Faunus if you had to?"_

"_I would condone the slaughter of whatever son of a bitch that threatens the peace we have today."_

_Grunts, footsteps._

"_M-Mr. Eduard! Please sit, the interview isn't finished!"_

"_Yes it is. You want a story? Here you go. Carlisle Industries makes weapons. We also make technology that helps people. It isn't technology that kills people; it's the people controlling technology. The Atlesian Military has over ten thousand AK-130's on back order, but no one cries whenever a soldier guns down a family during a panic attack. We make big sticks so that we can have peace, but if someone threatens that peace I will bludgeon them to death, Faunus or otherwise. Good day."_

-O-O-O-

EXTRA

Left alone on one of Beacon's two landing pads, the VDF Bullhead stood a sentinel watch over the distance pinpricks of light that could be none other than Vale. It was a pleasantly cool night, with the moon shining overhead. The view would be quite enjoyable for however decided to stop and watch.

However, it was quite an unenjoyable night for one Jaune Arc. He moaned, ineffectually thumping his hand on the metal grating of the Bullhead he was locked in. Of course, it didn't matter if it was locked if he couldn't get up. Hours had passed, and he was still trapped under the bulky miner.

Who was still unconscious.

And _snoring._

Jaune moaned again. "Get. This. Guy. _Off _of me…" he whined, sniffling. "Pyrrha, help me…"


End file.
